Beauty doesn't matter.
Oh fine yes it does
But whoever said that beauty had to be one part of you?
Whoever said that beauty was resrictly reserved for the outside of a person?
I think it's the inside that matters.
For if we have nothing on the inside we are hallow on the outside

Strange creatures circle the edges
And their eyes are hungry and haunted
One day their teeth shall glint dangerously
And I know it very well
For I shall be their meat
Though I cannot imagine fear
And I should feel something

Several people are asking me for help
But I shall probably turn away
For uncertainty clings to my head
Like a monkey that cannot be shaken
With claws in my eyes
I try to see my way out
But, of course, there is none
And the demands on my name
Echo where my conscience should be

Passengers come and go
On my endless journey
The landscape is familiar
And occasionally a memory smiles and waves
All too briefly, it seems
I feel I ought to cry more
But nothing seems to hurt as it used to
Only my nakedness makes me cold

                                 By Phil Roberts

Fear is eating away at my stomach,
And dissolving my brain.
So much so that the ability to think straight, eat, sleep, have all become a challenge.
A toxic mixture of fear and confusion are what's eating at my brain now.
Hey, at least for once it's not the drugs right?
There are two of me.
One says, the optimistic one, that it'll all be okay, and to just go with this.
The other, well, she doesn't like the look of this.
One is all lovey dovey, and the other is so scared of being stabbed in the back that she'd rather just sit in my room all day and ignore the fact that he exists.
She's always saying that this one is smart, he's not like the predictable idiots from the past. He's actually proven this time and time again, so its not just an assumption that he's a genius. This makes him so much more charming, and he has so much to offer, but it also makes him incredibly unpredictable.
Now that, that is some unknown territory for the both of us.
It bugs them both so much that they can't simply read his mind like the others. That they can't predict his every move days, or even weeks beforehand.
I've come to terms with the fact that the optimistic one is a *******. She always falls for stupid games. The other, she's not so dim, but even she is teetering on the edge for once. Teetering between trusting, and running the **** away.
That is a first for her, she never faulters, ever.
I haven't listened or taken heed of her words in the past. It's always left me unhappy, alone, and feeling stupid. She's the practical one, the one the never listens to her emotions.
The ******* on the other hand? Emotions rule her every decision, she's a fool. Listening to her has never gotten me anywhere good.
For once I'm listening to the practical one, and for the first time, even she's baffled by this oddity.
One cares to much, the other, usually doesn't even care as to whether she or anyone else dies.
Even she worries about him.
He may be smart, but he's just as ****** up. Just as likely to do the things I would. Just as likely to be utterly unpredictable. That, is terrifying.
I may love someone one day, but if they decide to stab me in the back, I'll still love them. However, I'll never speak to them again, and whenever they're around a fire will start inside of me. That continuously burns until they're so uncomfortable they feel the need to leave.
I may love him, but trusting is an altogether different thing for me. It only takes one mistake to destroy it and never gain it back. I'm always on high alert, and I refuse to take chances.
I believe this is the only thing that will keep me safe, but at what cost?

Sat on the floor to
Fiddle with the chords of
Amorous emotion,
Couldn't decide whether or not to
Blink or keep my eyes shut.
Never do I want to miss this
Rush,
Nor watch it leave.

I blink and blink
Till off in sleep.

Still strumming the lovely
Tunes of admiration.

He says something inappropriate. I end the conversation with a melancholic statement. He reaches out to me and... touch. I don't feel anything. Looking him up and down my face reads sad frustration but underneath it all panic. I can't feel him. I don't get hit by the sudden rush of his deodorant...In the midst of his presence and my heart doesn't skip a few beats..expecting his hand to touch my forearm. Beckoning. "I'm joking" he repeats.

But he doesn't see the internal concern. And all I want to do right now is pull him in and hold him really tight; whisper in his ear "I can't feel you", panic in my voice. A whisper he'll never understand.

I can't feel you anymore...