The pain is music. It pushes & pulls with notes - sometimes intense and sometimes subtle.

I worry about the way I feel things, or process simple emotions. I worry about going through the motions, like everyday is the same ******* day.

The pain is a tricky concept. It attacks you, when you feel the safest you've ever felt. Like a thousand daggers caressing your skin at once.

The pain is a tricky dance, which you can't master - even if you've memorized the steps and the notions. It's an uphill battle, which sometimes, just sometimes - leaves you at peace.

I sit by my lonesome, contemplating intricacies I've never cared about before. Watch the sun set on the idiots, the wanderers, the *******, the lovers, the dancers and the fiends.

I get so hypnotized within the pages that I forget to look up and maybe just scream for a little bit of air.

And "you turn to god, while I turn to you."