A silent god, both mute and deaf. You only speak to me with your hands, with the soft trailing pads of your fingertips.
burning, scorching, tearing the flesh from my skin. You split me open, Moses and his ****** red sea.

You dissect, examine. You sew up. You do not put back together. Or maybe you do but wrong. All my organs out of place. Dirt swimming in my intestines. So wrong I rip myself back open to make it right. Rip until I can't taste the lavender on my tongue.

You don't wear gloves. You don't Because you don't care, or maybe because you do. Because it won't matter, or because it matters too much. Because this isn't dissection this is ****. Because this is your hands inside me. Because this is the satisfaction of stealing the last thing that was mine, the last pure part of me. This is you staring desperately into the murk hoping to see something, this is the horror of seeing nothing but tar.

Inside the insane asylum,
That I go to five days a week.
Straightjacket tight,
I can barely breathe.
Listening to all the inmates,
Contemplating all their mistakes,
I can’t even sleep.
They continuously repeat,
The same lines over and over again.
When is my reprieve?
Better be soon, before my mind turns to a ruin.
“Blah, blah, blah.”
That’s all I hear.
Their voices, drowning out,
Every other peaceful sound.
“Blah, blah, blah, blah.”
I feel the blood flow from my ears,
As I look to the ground,
And fade into the background.
Can’t believe I still have a couple years.
When I break free, will my fears control me?
Sometimes it feels like I’m surrounded by,
Sheep that would just follow the crowd,
Till they died.
Am I going crazy…?
Or is it just all hyperbole…?

i can never tell why i’m crying, cause one second I’m so sad and then the next I’m smiling we’ll tears are streaming down my face. I’ve never cried out of joy so I think, but I cry every day. Some of it has to be out of joy right cause I’m sad and then I’m happy and I’m sad again and i want to die so I sleep because it’s like dying but not because i don’t want to, but do and that’s the closest i’ll get

i have found that when i feel overwhelmed i tend to distance myself from the situation. well, hold on, i take that back. when i feel an emotion that overwhelms me i distract myself from it, try as hard as i can to ignore it. until i can't, that's when i have to go, i have to find a place to disappear. a place i can sit, think, and feel for a moment until i shove that feeling back down my throat again. i never know when or if it will come back up, but when it does it means i have to leave.