It’s been sunny for what feels like years and my skin is begging for moisture. I only want to talk in hyperbole but I’m afraid of not making sense, I miss the times I spent alone. I miss myself, I miss knowing who I am. I’m afraid of time with my mind, I’m afraid of what I would have to face. It once rained for weeks and I felt the most confident then.

I’m not sure I have anything to say but it’s been weeks since I’ve written and I really need to ground myself into something other than this. I’d rather scream out into the void, talk in third persons or pretend there’s someone else listening than be so afraid. You think I’m weak but I’m not. I hate that you think you know me when you couldn't be further away -/