Fear

A lifetime of bittersweet numbness, of swirls and whirls, a hyperalert body, a comatose soul... puffy eyes, from the endless sleepless nights... blood rushing through the arms, too high?

The faint nausea makes you feel real... the dull heartache makes you feel alive. True, there is no happiness without unhappiness... but if there's too much bad, do we recognise the good when we see it? Or do we seek out the bad because it's too comfortable. Dysfunctional patterns. The comfort of pain, of solitude and everything that makes you cry inside. But the tears never come out. They always turn around and retrace right at the brink! The quiver in your lips battles with your fears of falling apart. That is what it is. The utter fear of falling apart... the fear that if you jump off the ledge, you'll crash right at the bottom and die, even though you have the parachute tied to your back, you don't trust yourself enough to be able to open it in time. Fear.