Handle With Care?

I’m scared, I’m scared and I’m confused and I don’t know what to do. I don’t know who we are anymore, I don’t know who I am anymore. My bruised knuckles feel foreign and so does the faint beat in my chest that rises to a crescendo at times, I’m losing my touch with reality again. The days drag on and they intertwine with nights like two lovers on a Saturday morning, impossible to tell apart. The thunder feels too loud to my fragile ears, and sunshine too bright to my eyes; the only thing constant in all this is the peace rain brings.

A lulling,

torturing,

unattainable peace,

because the chaos inside is too wild to be contained.

Oh, if only you could feel what I do, you’d treat me with a lot more care, my dear.

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6 thoughts on “Handle With Care?”

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