I am as unpredictable as the ocean, I can turn on you in an instance with no cause or reason. My heart often lacks enough trust to hold a conversation and my eyes grow weary when exposed to too much sorrow. If i could take a thousand needles and press them into the palms of my hands to feel something, I would, but for now I am just numb. And with the numbness comes a dire sense that my life is slipping through my fingertips like sand and I can do nothing more but watch it as it crumbles.
I hate every inch of myself of late, from the roots of my hair to my little toe. I hate all that is inside me, including the stardust in my bones and the ***** blood sweeping through me, this heart beats but it's broken and it has no rhythm; It is an old truck worn from years of hard use and I fear it will give out soon, I cannot re-fuel myself, I cannot re-make myself. I can only sit in silence and smile to my peers to make them think that I will get through this.
But their whispers I can hear, and they know I will not.