it's not worth the drama.

sometimes it feels like an illusion; a dream or memory that eats you alive and then spits you out, drenched in the saliva that sticks to you. you try to clean yourself, but you cannot; either way it fills you up with lonely, unfathomable regret, a sense of loss so deep you dont know what to do, where to go, what to eat, how to get downstairs ... you dont even know if you'll wake tomorrow feeling better, because sleep is a refuge you retreat into, without anything or anyone else to carry you you just fade and become one with the sheets. i find myself standing here with my heart in my hands, and i dont know what to do with it. do i give it to you, or do i give it to Someone, Someone whose promises you long to be able to hang on to, but you dont know enough. you just dont.

i seek emotional catharsis, a cleansing which will delude me into thinking everything is alright, and make all of these impure things disappear. so that i may not have to rip my own heart out and let it bleed out, so that this cleansing isnt my own; someone else is responsible for it. let Someone Else be responsible, because i have no control, and thus, no need to answer.

i dont want an answer. i am comfortable in my disability. this is MY healing, MY way of doing what is right for myself, MY way of telling you that i can stand on MY own feet.

i can stand on my own feet.

i can stand on my own feet.

for a beautiful lie