Violence

I have this recurring moment. It seems unwarranted. Sometimes I know it's about to happen but not always. I will be doing anything at all, e.g., reading, drawing, making dinner, shaving my legs, doesn't matter....and slowly I stop, because I feel something inside me push my heart into my throat. As I look up, I realize I've not been breathing for several minutes, and my lungs pull in air and it feels like I'm exploding. And as I calm myself, I know it's only just begun. After the exploding comes the shifting. I look straight ahead, and the entire world moves 90 degrees on the horizontal plane. Once everything has shifted, I step to the next platform. I then watch as everything drips away like hot wax. Everything melts into itself and becomes what I know it truly is, forming the world I know to be real. And once I blink, reclaiming my eyes, everything implodes. And then I'm standing in the kitchen, realizing someone is yelling at me because I've been standing at the sink letting the water overflow. But I am overflowing, and it seems so insignificant that I can't force myself to care...to even pretend to care to satisfy you.

This is always where I start to ruin everything. I can't make myself care about these insignificant issues that seem to plague your daily life. Empathy is lost at times. It isn't that I don't care for the individual, it's that I don't see why they turn tiny fractures into shattered bones. I know I'm always bleeding, but I bleed for so many reasons that no one will understand. It becomes mutual in this way. I bleed for the universe, for the whole of evil that slowly eats away at all of humanity. And I can't spare the empathetic courtesies to understand how you can still bleed for something as small as a broken nail, just as you can't see why I don't.

I don't do any of this on purpose. I don't want to seem so morose, because I am still filled with love and hope and happiness. Repeating these phrases can't make them any more genuine. Revealing my authenticity to you doesn't mean you will understand it. I want myself to be more than another fingerprint. More than a girl who is crawling out of her skin. A girl, hung in her room, cooling from within. Something more than this girl, who is perceived as crazy and quirky, with no compassion for anything but the deadness in the world. And this girl, who could change your life, who could open your eyes to something different, but who can't, because she fears that you are afraid to see it. This fucking girl, so surrounded, yet so completely alone, who can't shut her fucking mouth. And this girl, who sees you, and you alone, after being blind all these years, but doesn't have the courage to open her mouth, after being forced to shut it.

I'm this girl, dead on the surface, awaiting resuscitation. The shell of something better, hidden beneath this ugly girl.