My heart beats unevenly.
Shattered and put back together again...
Tape and band-aids.
Time has made me see the darkness within the day.
Where the shadows never sleep.
I find myself searching for the pain again.
Squeezing lemon upon my fresh wound...
Just to feel something...
Anything at all.
The thought of insanity fills my head.
Chaos in a closed room.
Hurt, broken, and unforgiving.
No longer able to sing a sweet song.
Unable to beat the same way his does.

The roads seem lonely.
My bed feels extra big.

The house is empty.
And so is my heart.

I feel powerless.

Time.
It makes me anxious.
I am constantly looking for it.

Gone.
Gone in seconds, minutes, hours, and days.

I've been searching for time to do things.
Time to appreciate things.

I have yet to accomplish anything.
Because I keep wasting time looking.

Sometimes I feel trapped in my own body.
As if my soul is caged behind my ribs...

My mind never shuts off.
A constant movie replaying and replaying.

Those terrible times.
My adolescent years...
My constant mistakes.

I am filled with regret.
I am paralyzed by my past.
Unable to move forward with life.

Feeling the memories in the back of my mind still...
I've tried so hard to make them go away.
But they don't perish into the flames of yesterday.
They are still here.
And they still haunt me.

We lie here talking about our fears...
Regrets.
Heartache.
Trauma.

Making our hearts race.
And our bodies seem to heat up.

And when the tears finally dry...
We will understand each other.

And so the story goes about a little girl falling for a boy with a bad side.
That everything would happen for a reason.

But she didn't want to listen to it all.
She wanted to feel that sense of freedom.
That sense of feeling like SHE was in the spotlight on the dance floor.
With all eyes on her.

Just for that one moment...

She felt like she could love someone else more than she could love him.
That this love wasn't anything compared to what would happen next.
At any given time.
Any given place.
That she would meet someone.
And the magic would never die.
Even though this love taught her many lessons...
She felt as though she would find a love where she felt more appreciated.
Where you finally understand it.
That you feel fulfillment in life.
That you could live forever.
With no fear and only happiness.

Why is it when something bad happens do I always want to write about it?
Writing about happiness makes me feel sappy.
But once there is a problem...
I put pen to paper.
I see.
I think.
I feel...

I feel that imagination.
That sense of power.
That freedom.


And in those times of silence...
When neither one of us has anything to say...
My mind wanders further and further away.

Deep inside my soul.
Searching for that feeling again.