we are wrecks. is it fair to jot emotions and thoughts of a common affair? especially within a room stained with them. fortunately, giggles help blur pain's edge. but another set of walls imprisons perseverance, beauty, and faith, while silence streaks red across them, tainting them with impending desolation. she's holding on. by a liquid strand. she breathes without winces and sleeps without tears. how long until even that is too much to ask for? i peer out from inside a vessel, desperate to connect to this world or be blinded completely. i ache to sit beside her, lose everything but that moment, but her and i, but her. and i cant. something scratches at me. gnaws on me. my fingers twitch and my heart races waiting..waiting..waiting for who knows what. some sort of change. anticipation for laughter, dread for ...
i cannot continue this post at this time. too hard. too much.
