I am chaos.
I've ceased to be adjectival; I no longer embrace, but am, chaos.
My heart has been broken and glued back together in ways all the pieces were never meant to fit.
I am one million miles per hour over the speed limit, on a dead-end road, with no intention of stopping.
I'd rather not sleep, not eat, not laugh.
I'd rather get ready for the day with swollen eyes and a worn-out mind.
I just want my lungs to explode.
I just want for my eyes to slam shut.
To be still.
Jul 4, 2010
Jul 4, 2010 at 9:42 PM UTC
I am chaos.
I've ceased to be adjectival; I no longer embrace, but am, chaos.
My heart has been broken and glued back together in ways all the pieces were never meant to fit.
I am one million miles per hour over the speed limit, on a dead-end road, with no intention of stopping.
I'd rather not sleep, not eat, not laugh.
I'd rather get ready for the day with swollen eyes and a worn-out mind.
I just want my lungs to explode.
I just want for my eyes to slam shut.
To be still.
