I hope this is private. Anyone or anything catching on to this would probably hike the hills far far away from me after a few reads or less. I'm quite the heavy dramatic. I live in the past. I obsess over negativity, and I constantly living in dellusions by the day. Its a never ending round trip. It's rather frustrating.... Sometimes I just want to have a good cry over it alone. I enjoy being alone time and time again. There's no one around to judge a damn thing, except for me to myself. If I could be honest for a moment, or two onto more....
I'd be open to say, it's hard. It used to be so easy. I used to escape from everything and everyone with a simple goodbye and at
small pocket sized bag full of shards and sparkling powder. It was easier to get low, and break down, and nod into slumber behind a pair of shades, or none....
It was easier to feel my bones stretch my skin slightly, and have it ache because of how skinny I had gotten. I felt like a broken hot mess quite often. Sometimes it felt so good, other times, I wanted me and my broken expression to disappear.
Now, I feel like I've lost grip of my emotions, and I'm stuck with melon collie creeping up on my back, and it's lips pressed on my neck, along with it's grip of my right hand in itself. Yikes. There's times where it fades, but that's for a different time to explain. I'm pretty tired. I guess this is end?