Dragging a knife across the surface of metal creating that metallic sound,
Scraping noise,
Piercing your ears like a siren,
Like cold ice pressed against your back after sitting under the sun,
Sharp and vicious,
That's how it feels,
When it comes back after all these months,
Over half a year without it,
And it seeps right back under my skin,
And all the sudden I'm so low at the bottom of the ocean,
And the pressure is collapsing on top of me slowly,
But I wait it out,
Until I finally rise back again,
Back to the surface,
But maybe once I get there I won't just stop,
I'll go so high up into the clouds I'll break through the atmosphere,
And I won't be able to breath once again,
The pressure will still be enough to collapse me completely,
The word mediocre has never meant much to me,
Average,
Normal,
Never words that seemed to have a spot in life for me,
And these feelings sometimes seem beyond those words,
I don't ever feel normal,
Or average,
Or mediocre,
Those words are as foreign to me as the gentle fingertips,
Of the girl I fell in love with two years ago,
Tracing patterns across my skin,
They crossed my mind,
But never once did they get anywhere beyond the boundaries of my head.
