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winter May 2
She hasn’t left her room for three days. She hasn’t left her house in two weeks. She hasn’t gone into town in a month before that. She hadn’t been rationing her food supply on purpose but it’s what ended up happening anyway.

She’s laying on the floor, now. She’s been laying on the floor and staring at the ceiling for hours. She knows that the ceiling is a muted, toneless, comforting beige but all she can focus on is the creeping gray shadows that feel like a physical barrier between herself and the rest of the world. She knows that these shadows are only really in her head, but four nights ago the angle of the sun coming through her curtains had been just right and all she could focus on was an oppressive mass of shadow that froze her in her tracks and locked her inside her own mind as it crawled nearer and nearer.

That horrifying moment had only been that, a moment, but now that she’s locked away she doesn’t even have the energy to start looking for the key.

She’s been lying on the floor staring at her not-gray ceiling for hours. She has no idea what day it is because every time her mind starts to right itself into something resembling coherency there is another shudder of uncertainty and the physical shadows in her mind slither over her more tightly and she is left again a shell of herself, dead, glassy eyes staring, seeing nothing and the ceiling, both at once.

However, if there is one thing she can focus on longer than anything else, it is the shadows. The ones that wriggle in the corners of her periphery and make up her cage. Even if her mind can’t pull itself together enough to name the days, she can at least count how many times the shadows were at their weakest and instead of reaching towards the silhouette of her body, she can at least count the three times where she felt the light pressure of warmth on her skin. It lasted a little while, she remembers, vaguely, but it was never long before the briefest change in the shadows illuminated their own movement again. Again, if coherency was anywhere near possible she might question how her strict one-way mind can connect that this means that days have passed, but for now she just waits in numb agony for nothing and everything in her mind to make sense.

She has no idea if she is awake or asleep and really, doesn’t care.
now I know this is a place for poems and this is prose but...... this has been niggling at the back of my mind when I try to sleep. lately, I've been having that thing happen where I sleep so much but I still wake up exhausted. I hope for rest for myself and I hope that someone else can relate to this.

I've been super obsessed with superhero movies and the combination of this and seeing the trailer for Neil Gaiman's masterclass I feel like I almost have a solid idea for an actual plot of a story based off this. I'll probably think about for months before anything happens but. I guess this is a test run.
winter Mar 25
I find validation in soulful eyes.
winter Dec 2018
I'd love to be able to lay my heart out
I want to open my chest and flay all my doubt
Ill reach into myself and hope to see reality
But how am I supposed to help if I blind myself?
what if I go searching and only find trouble?
What if my eloquence it reduced to babble?
Reason takes effort and I'm exhausted
i isolate myself from all other living things
is it to protect myself or everyone else
winter Oct 2018
i wish i could be art
please give attention im losing myself
winter Oct 2018
The words have been getting stuck in my throat.
Maybe its the timing as I keep myself afloat
or I’m losing my taste for the sugarcoat.
I haven’t seen myself around
As I keep my face toward the ground
But surely not all of my emotions have drowned.
You see, the bags under my eyes
Have been a perfect disguise
Because I'm not working myself to my demise,
No, I’ve been withering away
Curled up to do nothing but decay
As I pretend there is nothing beyond my doorway.
For some reason, my mind is denying
That my responsibilities have any bearing
on my overall wellbeing
When, really, I know better but
It like my mind decided my kismet
And any real rationale went into the toilet.
My actions have only been half finished.
I move towards something but then it has vanished.
And I can't even remember what I hoped to accomplish.
I know I had hopes and dreams
But now it really just seems
Like I can only see daydreams
The words aren’t just stuck in my throat
They just don't exist.
There are no words to describe this
Emptiness.
please give me attention.
winter Oct 2018
Dear friends its been a while!
I can't believe
It took so long to reconcile.
So often it feels like
I'm only giving off a profile.
so I must say
I’ve missed your smile.

I've been thinking lately
(And you know how
My thoughts can be deadly)
That maybe I
Am lost again already.
I’ll swallow my pride this time
And ask for help before I go crazy.

I can't feel my emotions.
Every other obstacle feels like
a toss into the deepest of oceans.
And no matter what I do
Its like I’m only going through the motions.
It's so hard to be around people
Without feeling like my mind and body are prisons

Help me, please
I don't want to be alone anymore but
this is the only place I feel at ease.
I feel sicker than before now,
How can I cure my self of this disease?
All my efforts drain me.
Why would my heart have a lock without keys?

I am so sorry
I'm working through some
of this explosive self-fury.
I hope you can forgive me
and save yourself some worry
because I know to ask now and besides:
it's not as bad as it could be.
tbh i could really use some attention. thanks.
winter Feb 2018
i have spent every moment
of my life dedicated to
collecting the art of my experiences
they live under my skin
and crawl towards the loving light
that the sun promises
but i cannot give up my sight
for them to fly and be lost
no one loves them like i do
no will see them as i do
i know because no one
sees them when they sink
longing claws into my flesh
they cant see the shades
as the colors bleed out of my tears
so i keep them safe behind my ribs
right next my expanding heart
and i let part of them pour out
as words on my fingertips
some are shy
and some seek the sight of others
just like my feelings
i love so much
so i am so greatful that they
do not resent me
for not looking into the sun
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