(no subject)
i've ceased to wander or wonder, found a position to stay crouched in, huddled in the necessary and reliable pocket between a lover's arm and torso. i'm not safe here, but i am safer. i am not dreaming in arsenic and cyanide when he wakes me, i am not singing wings and guns drawn. i am lucid and intangible and unstable, off medication and i don't answer questions i don't recognize. the moat just beyond my skull, cradling my brain, is filled with a sloppy, dirty flotsam and jetsam of things i should have said and things i know i am not above resorting to. barefoot, bed-less, un-showered, chapped.
i'm depressed still, aching to function. i'm manic with eyes wide and i'm lost with an only consolance the suffocatin of bed sheets and humid air.
i sing in the shower; i can't keep wanting to breathe, and dreaming to drown / i can't want to hold on and still let myself down.
i'm depressed still, aching to function. i'm manic with eyes wide and i'm lost with an only consolance the suffocatin of bed sheets and humid air.
i sing in the shower; i can't keep wanting to breathe, and dreaming to drown / i can't want to hold on and still let myself down.