you fucked me up and I fucking forgave you. well, I take it back.

Lively the emptiness of the night, the absence of noise, the ringing in my ears, the hunger in my gut, it all fills me, makes me real. but these crowded spaces, and loud noises, and being in the presence of only animals makes me feel emptier than any lack of commotion could. the silence can make me feel alive, the sound of just my breath or yours can make me whole. I can't handle all this nonsense. let me breathe and hear my breath! do not cover my proofs of #life with your jibber-jabber! your poppycock! your pointless rambles! you unimportant messages! your unintelligible phrases! your stomping feet! your made-up words! give me peace, give me calm, give me quiet. I don't really want to be alone all the time, but I don't want to be constantly hounded either.

ice breaks beneath my toes like glass. it gives me the feeling of destruction I hunger for in my depressive state. gives me a sense of recklessness I crave. all the while, cooling my spine and fingers and eyes. the wind blowing my loose wisps of hair. but I do not feel happiness. I do not feel relief. I feel the same jolt of sadness sent straight to my heart, its bouncing and panicky reaction. I do not feel different, and I do not feel the same.

Metaphors #2 a cigarette burns. poison fills the air, coating the atmosphere with its toxic scent. a scent a smoker can no longer recognize. a scent that will eventually dissipate. the cigarette will burn to its end. gone.

Metaphors #1 a piece of cardboard catches in the middle of the pit. its edges burn, and its center folds and twitches. the flames lick and scorch its bottom side. its layers become bare, one by one. its once brown color has turned to black, red flames alive in its core. but in the end, it is ashes, small and weak, thinner than paper, falling to the earth and soaking in, becoming insignificant, becoming forgotten