i haven't called
i know
i've been busying myself with living, you know...the usual
hyperventilation and sickness hurt.
i did get to scratch in some place something about how i remember dreaming about you smiling over me and how, now i'm dreaming about being able to be just as in love again.
you know...i'm aware how it pains you though i know it pains me just the same...
withering seemed so much more crisp in terms of suffering, now it feels like a drying freedom.
you're not here to watch me destroy myself, that's why i've gone - to be free to die away from the eyes of all who i no longer want to care for me.
it feels...
it feels terribly lonely.
i've been taking my notes, pouring salt, drawing blood, praying for touch, seeking safety and warmth, growling in my sleep, whimpering after i sneeze and withering.
this does not feel like life
it feels like errupting silently,
it feels as if i'm escaping without me wanting
it feels like me