High and Dry.

I've been writing on paper more recently. I think that's so I can lose it or throw it away. I don't really like the way I'm sounding these days. I seem to have hit a grey area where nothing flows or seems to get the right feeling across.

So. I seem to have gone the complete circle. I'm back to where I was last year, only this time I have someone else in the equation to think about. I've swapped a friend for a lover and part of me feels a sense of dread everytime I get close to admitting it. I've done to her what someone else did to me and sometimes I don't know if I care, or care too much that the guilt wraps my lungs and makes it hard for me to breath.

I'm finding it increasingly more hard to breath. My chest heaves and my breath goes into patterns I don't understand. I put my hands over my face so that I can't see you and you can't see me. My eyes stream hot and make my face sticky and burn. I never want to move. I don't want to bring my legs down from my chest. Or unwrap my face from my hands. The thought of going outside, or leaving the point where I'm sitting is so fucking scary and in that moment I don't want to be anywhere other than in a silent white space with no one else around, for galaxies.

This is the most I have written in ages. Maybe I just needed the encouragement. Thank You.