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Mar 2015
Between my lungs and my heart,
There is a space that hurts.
It is like holding my breath and still walking,
On, and On.

Between my tears, and my laughter,
There is a part where I’m silent.
When you aren’t there, and I’m not there.
Neither of us start.

And speaking,
To speak is to be vulnerable.
To run into things that we don’t want to imagine.
But we do anyway because that’s our inherent nature.

Our dreams keep us alive,
But handicaps and flaws,
They are too overpowering.
For me at least.

I had thought that physical pain made me sane.
I was wrong.
My sanity is what I’m most afraid of,
And I still pursue it.

And stupidity,
I’m stupid for not seeing this.
I called it.
I jinxed us. And now I hurt.

Between my lungs and my heart,
There is a girl who struggles to stay above water,
Holding her breath,
And choking on words she wish she said.

And she’s sinking,
Deeper,
Deeper,
Faster,
And her sanity, pushed her past

H
E
R

B
R
E
A

K
I

N

G


P

O

I

N

T
pure recognition of my emotional state
Written by
Ella Cole
266
   Arlo Disarray
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