Just scribbles on paper.

It's amazing how the brisk of a sleeve can make you feel. Honestly, it's not even about you. You are just an extension of some deep rooted gunk inside me. Ever wonder why we stay in the lines, inside the margins? Ever wonder why we have to practice tricking our hearts into being on the same page as our brains? Heartbreak can manifest itself in almost any shape or form-like an unbeatable boss of sorts. How can you fly with clipped wings? Do you still try? There's something within the grip of the steering wheel or the way the wind blows wisps of your hair onto your cheeks, brushing them with a slight tickle such as a feather, which can only bring nothing but a grin with no other reason. Do I scare you? Do I entice you? Do I remind you of who you are, what you are capable of feeling, what primal instincts you cannot shut out? Does my presence make you fear, not me, but yourself? I've allowed myself to feel a couple of times. I wanted to scream into the sky for no one to hear but the stars that mourn our downfalls. Loving someone hurts. To do everything around their liking to get them to realize the extent of what you feel. Meaningless expression. I remember slammed doors and empty, empty, shallow laughs. Sometimes, I laughed at nothing. Anything to feel any amount of joy-real or not. That's love for ya. A pack of cigarettes and a tank of gas held so much weight even when you didn't care enough to stop me. It was never enough, was it? I could have put it all into a grave if I wanted, it would overflow and it still just wasn't enough for you. Love is pain and pain is love and I get that. Really- I do. But I want to feel it. I want to feel it all over, running and pumping in my veins like an adrenaline rush that just really gets you off. The perfect climax. To hurt for a reason, to hurt for a cause. To fight for something people just don't believe in anymore. I do. But I don't just want to love. I want to hurt. Because screaming and slammed doors and sobbing and watching my lit cigarette burn holes into my pants just feels so much better than feeling nothing at all. I am human. That is the beauty of being human. To feel. When absolute blankness is all you are exposed to-pain just sound so damn good. You can't put love or pain on your grocery list. The universe is a fucking joke that way. I want to love and feel and hurt until it damn near kills me, to fall to my knees, beg for mercy and then beg for more. Because that's the way my body works. That's the way it’s supposed to fucking work. That's the way my mind works and that’s the way my fucking heart works too. Empathy is never the same to another person as it is to you. Hurting for someone who hurts doesn't make their pain any more tolerable. Why do we always fall in love with strangers? Passing by, stopping in your life with a simple kiss-a hug- a fuck- a conversation. Do we ever actually know people? No one knows the thoughts we think before we go to bed and when we wake up. What secrets we hide from ourselves and how are hearts become so heavy in the middle of the night and we can't sleep, but all we can do is think think think until there are no more thoughts in the world to think and the heaviness in our hearts shifts to our eyelids. What is the equivalent to the dull feeling that creeps its way into your body without you noticing until its in full swing? It’s a want. ... a need. But for what? I'm still the same lost girl I've always been. I've not made much progress. I don't know what to do- not sure how to feel. Every feeling I have comes with repercussions and WHY. Why is it so wrong to be human, for me to be a fucking human. Has humanity come to point where we've lost sight of what's important? That we just don't fucking get it? I want it to go away. The winter months- the cold- the sadness. The imprints of my teeth engraved into my upper lip. I want to feel joy at my fingertips to spread to others. The blindness I feel has become overwhelming. There is a hollowness perching itself inside us all and we fucking let it. How will we let it define us? How will you let it define you? That’s the true characterization of humanity. How far are you willing to push yourself. My body has a mild vibration to it as I lay physically drained, exhausted. Surrounded by cubicles, I want to jump up! Shout out for mercy! Shake up the world, tell everyone around me to wake the fuck up! This is it- this is the revolution. When mankind battles it biggest enemy. The enemy that has been around for the longest time. Itself. Mankind is mankind's greatest weakness. To hurt each other and tear each other apart limb from limb. And we don’t even see it. I take comfort in the small things. A film used to watch to help me forget that my father is dead and he will not be able to hold me again. My arms and hands wrapped tightly around my warm belly, the best feeling and touching there is. You will never ever get under my skin. You won't see what beauty there is within this heart because you will not allow it. That goes for all of you. I'd like to go back to a tree in the woods. To enjoy my innocence I didn't know I had until it was gone. I want to remember the flesh that is underneath the threads tied from the graves, the attic stairs, the church bathroom, the black box theatre, the inside of a Buick Century. That's who I am. You're just too naive to know it.