baileyrs
This side of the street is the only thing I know. I know it inside and out, sideways and upside down, all ways, always.
There are three zones of my brain, my mind- terrified, humiliated, and the occasional cynical. They never meet, but rather are cut through with highways- the cars circumstances and imagination.
There is something ablaze in the pit of my stomach right now. I can't sleep. I think I might throw up. It's anxiety. This fire isn't real, but it hurts all the same. I need someone to save me. I need to save myself. Can I yell even though everyone is sleeping?
I do not recycle. I keep everything lined up where I can see it. I don't "re-use." I let everything live as it was born to. I'll hold it in my hands until it hurts. I refuse to waste, but I never recycle.
I wait for your demonstration of how to properly kiss, all the while, I'm thinking back to that boy told me I kissed sweeter than anyone else in the world. And how much I missed him.
I used to love it when my dad would push me on the tire swing. All around the park, and it was MY dad who was there, pushing the fastest and making me fly.