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590 · Jul 2019
RUSH
Richard Haas Jul 2019
I could never put a name to this feeling. This feeling of a rush has been so normal. But normal things one day can too, become unhealthy.

The imbalance in which you flow, has incorrectly been funneled into your brain. Now that I can name you, I shall name you Sero. Sero, is in us all but why must some be involved with such a heavy flow. This flood would overcompensate our feelings and make us, unreal or bizarre. Derealization has overcome you now, there is no escape - or so you think. Detached, shocked and horrified of this impending doom, has left you utterly mesmerized by the fact that there is so much you are unable to do now. An escape has to be planned accordingly, although you are not involved with writing out your day's work, your brain has all of the "happy locations" logged and places of which you have not experienced yet are never aloud to be unlocked. You feel abnormal, your heart is somehow in your stomach running on a dirt road. You are sweating like condensation from a water bottle on a summers day. Your body's cold, just like that water bottle. You're just as flexible and hold composure on the outside, but as the heavy flow of Sero is now introduced into the brain, the cap fly's off and you don't feel that surrounding holding you back anymore. Gravity has shifted and you are floating in fear. But you will never drown, you will always make it out alive.
December 3rd, 2018 was my last horrific panic attack. I will never forget that day. To many people it was a simple normal day, but to me it was moment that lead to this attack, and the moment I felt it coming I was driving... So clearly not good (That is of course, you know the feelings of this sudden 'Rush'). Got emitted to the E.R. and that said panic attack lasted for 2 hours. Once I finally came to my senses, it was over and I was just ready to sleep.
140 · Jul 2019
I'm sorry
Richard Haas Jul 2019
You'er tired of getting tied, to a tied rope.
Tie a little tighter, balanced your life on tight rope.
The looks of a cold slit, your smile just sold it, I count the bullets.
Don’t say sorry.

Memories just fade, you gave it way, changing every day.
Chest concave's, you look away, you don’t feel the same.
Self harm kills, but you reflect the feels, I add the pills.
Don’t say sorry.

Sleep better when you cry, "I'm okay" is a lie, you're scared to die.
But who am I, someone to reply, you hope for an early flight.
A long fall, too frigged, no loose change, no wishes, I count all the bridges.
Don’t say sorry.

A ****** scene, in disbelief, memories clean.
Kitchen ware on the sheets, hear distant screams, your mind was mean.
If my name was Blessings, you counted with expressing, of how life was depressing.
I'm sorry.

— The End —