Are we going too fast? Are we ready to do this again? Is it intentionally though, do we know where we're going? I'm used to think in plural, always writing "us". What if it's just me that's falling back into the same circle? My biggest fear. The one I wasn't able to confess the first time, the one I refuse to write down now.
I'm not saying the word I am not. I am tired of songs talking about it and I am tired of books trying to explain it. I am not saying the word. Besides, I don't even know if I've had first hand experience with that feeling, how are you supposed to know? I have nothing to compare it with, no one to contrast it. I didn't seem to feel it when I was with you, I tend to confuse it when I'm sad. I had an empty space in my mind a dark hole in my soul, something to do with missing you but I won't spare a second in denying: it was not it. So what's going on now?
Call it pride call it whatever, when it provokes you so much pain it can't be tender affection, it's not a sweet passion or warmth. It's cold and scary, it drives you mad, makes you want to rip your heart out of your chest and scream at it for feeling with such intensity. It's not affection, it's pure disgust and horror, a skin crawling feeling the one that leaves you shaking and with your eyes shut.
Please comment what you think!
YOU ARE READING
Evolution of an Illness
RandomI embrace every inch of me that no one understands and every piece that people think it's broken. Every text tells a story I put them together to realise I was narrating an illness
