Wednesday, 13 June 2012

i lost my will and i lost my way, let us go far from here till we're old and grey.

if i tell you that i'm scared will you keep my fear stashed inside your locker, beside advanced english, in the dictionary with rest of the definitions that i labelled myself with?

i don't want to die. and i don't want to lose anyone to death either. but i lie awake imaging our separate ends and then i wake from the sleep that caught me at our funerals, i'm terrified.

heaven is meant to be my comfort but i find none in it. only the destitute and the brave; those who had nothing left to believe and those who were too brave to give up their beliefs. i'm neither of those. i believe because if i didn't i wouldn't be here at all.

break us all down and we become nothing but star dust. maybe that is why some of us sparkle and others are chasm of imploding darkness. and talking of imploding it feel like my body might do just that. it feels like everything is draining from me; my blood, my breath, my soul, my mind. all physical this time, all excruciatingly physical.

(that is not to say that things aren't good. there is much to be grateful for and i am; there is my job and summer and uni and family and friends. and i love them.)

but i'm still scared. my hope doesn't drown my fear, if anything it perpetuates it because it allows my perspective to envisage every angle. it's like looking round a corner using a shard of glass; you can see what is coming clearly enough with your eyes, but you can't know for certain if your brain is playing tricks on you or not.

and as a by the by it's one year since i was discharged from hospital. one year that i've made it without section or tubes or starvation. then why i am so sad? i think, though i may be wrong, it's because i've never felt so close to dying.

x xx
My photo
somewhere over the rainbow
hullo there stranger, welcome to the better side of me.

porcelain puppet dolls