Apr 01, 2007 21:16
Drunk. Pissed off. Confused, hurt, pain, crying, tired, nausia. Fear, anger, relief, inability to swallow.
Symptoms and emotions all poured together with detergent, and set to spin.
Sometimes I feel like I'm swelling up to bursting point, unable to do anything but hold myself in a little tighter.
There is no comfort for me. Nothing to last.
I had a dream last night...
Somewhere in the bowels of the Labrynth of ancient Crete, I walked the underground. I reached the stone door of the main chamber, ready to die.
It swung open to reveal him sitting idly on a stone bed, spinning something on his hand. He turned his head toward me, breathing in grunts. Half bull.
I loved him regardless.
If I were a Russian doll, I would remove my upper half, and show you all the shadow-creature that lives within my shell. I would point to the claw marks on the inside of the outer me, and you could tell me that everything ends well. What doesn't kill me makes me stronger. That I could use this as a learning experience. Maybe it's for the best.
There is no comfort. I still don't feel any better.