carly1694
Take a breath. You can't control it, so don't fight it. Don't kill yourself thinking you can. You can't, and that's okay. Let it out slowly. Let it go, just let it all go.
She nodded and he understood, and they both gripped tightly onto the dream that they both shared, hoping and wanting more than anything that they could one day break free of the mold that had been set around their skeletons, and the air that filtered their lungs like fog and poison would soon be lifted from them. They hoped, but never once achieved what they sought after, nor did they ever find a cure for the reality of the situation that this, in fact, was all a dream. And like a dream, it could never be real, nor could their affair.
Sing as you breathe,
it's the only way I know how.
You, me, this. Us. All of it. My life, your life, their lives, even the air we breath is somehow all tangled around us like a web of confusion. Dysfunction. Horrible and beautiful as it decays my tissue in a matter of hours. Your bones still intertwined in mine, reaching and praying that we'll find a way. We'll find a way. You, me, this. Us. Miserable, terrifying, mystifying and delusional. I could make it easier on myself and just tell you how it is. I could find smaller, easier words to fit what I mean. But this is dysfunctional. And dysfunctional means I can't find enough words to spit it out.