Fears Repress

Sitting here, the cloud just outside the window, I feel tired and worried. The lights cast their most romantic lighting they can produce. Helped by the thick air, they cause more effect than normal. It's surreal. My heart beats and my head thinks too much. I worry about all the decisions I have made, and those I have yet too. I think about all the decisions you will make, and the ones you already have. My heart beats into my stomach making me sick. I miss you.

I worry and think about my bed. The sheets wrinkled and unmade, marked and stained with the decisions I've made. I look the trash and hope that what I might have thrown away isn't already at the dump. The music only sways me to believe in my own drama, and it swells with every worried heart beat.

The grains of sand have stopped dropping, though I'm not sure whether it's just jammed and stuck in the top, or if it's just all ran out. I argue with myself about how stupid I can be sometimes, and it doesn't make me feel very good about who I am, or who I was. I try not too let the heart cause my head more pain, and think of only who I want to be.

I'm in the bathroom, but not sure how I've gotten there or how long I've been looking at myself in the mirror. I splash water on my face and can't tell if it was warm or cold. My face feels hot and could be bleeding the red at it's surface. The tears don't cool it down and I'm confused. Am I crying for myself or for you. The man in the mirror doesn't answer, but looks at me with pity. I suck in the tears, the snot and accept what I have done. The ship hasn't quite set sail, but it feels like the dock is further away. I don't know what to do about it. I feel stuck, and sad, and damn... I miss you. I miss knowing that you are there with me. I miss knowing that you love me. I wish I knew for sure.

The feeling might hurt more, and maybe I deserve it. They say, they say, but I don't believe it. And how could you just let it walk away. What if it doesn't come back. That's not a decision I can live with, and the one that got me here isn't one that I can either. Sometimes I don't peel back all my layers and let you in. I need, I want, I am. Sorry for this and sorry for that, and nothing I say fixes all under the hat. I reach down and struggle days, or even weeks to pick myself up off the floor. How can I expect to explain myself to you if I can't even explain myself to myself.

I feel sick. Everyday that goes by; it eats me. It eats at me. I struggle to breath like jumping in cold water. The wind is knocked out from me and I don't want it to return. Not unless it comes with the warmth I feel from you. I didn't thank you enough, or appreciate all that you've done. You might have saved my life, and instead of pulling you closer, I pushed you further away. Warmth in your eyes, comfort in your smile. Your touch, I'm crazy for it. I miss it. I miss you. I love you.