I have this bad habit of leaving my thoughts all fragmented and broken on the notes app on my phone.
Unformed and left unprocessed.
I leave them in these half-baked states, and let myself discover them months later. Only to feel puzzled, lost and wondering what exactly made me think of those things on that particular day.
This post is again, one of those “let’s get this on the Internet and clear up the phone” kind of thing.
I recall crying and sitting in a corner not talking to anyone. I had work to do, and did do the work in the end since it was a responsibility. I was in the shadows, everyone left me alone and I sat there being more alive internally than externally.
I was sitting in the silence with my skin on fire.
I am crying for no reason. Maybe it is the darkness wringing me on the inside. Stagnant water coming free.
How can I not know the emotions that belong to me, or do I belong to them?
Running away from myself.
And the romance keeps killing itself. Again.