Strength from you to me

I need strength. I need it now. I want it to flow from you to me. You forge a connection; hold hands. Warmth flows. Strengthens. Me. You.

Tears dry. Throats unchoke. Laughter returns. But the feel of your hand on mine remains forever.

Harder to breathe

-

I can feel it...at all times. This dead weight pressing down on me...suffocating me...holding me down. Grasping me by the arms and pulling me along with it down this long dark tunnel where no light can penetrate and the air is hot and unbearably still...making it harder to breathe.
My breathing is dry and shallow, and I try to draw quick breaths to feel the pain as little as possible, to ignore the air rubbing against my raw lungs at every movement, in and out.
I sit on the prayer mat, hugging my knees drawn up to my chest, trying to hold together myself before I fall apart into pieces...to ignore the gaping hole inside me, clutching at the seams before I lose control; my hands gripping my hair in two tight fists; my eyes closed and my face screwed up, withholding the emotion, and frustration, that is building up.
There really is no excuse. No statements that I can make; no words of comfort or solace that I can speak, or hear. There is raw feeling...nothing more, nothing less. There is emptiness; there is that constant tumor, eating away inside me...there is pain...a consistent dull aching pain, that won't go away, no matter how much I wish it to.
There is a loss of peace of mind..of laughter...of life.
I'm hanging by a slight thread...just the slightest bit of hope keeping me alive.

Oh...and I'm jealous. Hopelessly, infinitely so. Sue me.

it could have been worse

I am miserable...and yet I am not. I shouldn’t be…it’s not like I’m lacking much in life.
I’m sad and I worry too much about someone…as I should.

I feel like I’m caught in a whirlpool; I’m going around in endless spirals and sinking deeper, fast. And that is something entirely different from the panicky feeling that rises up inside me sometimes, threatening to engulf me, suffocate me – and my head spins while my fingers scrabble at my throat uselessly, trying to save me from the cord that is choking me.

I’ve spent all morning and all afternoon shivering. The cold has been affecting me worse today. I had actually been keeping it at bay in recent days. It is seeping into me and clutches hold of my backbone, and then it spreads up from that low point in one sudden smooth, fluid motion up my spine, and the jolt pulls me up straight and sets my muscles all a-quiver.

It is not pleasant.

It has been long since I felt the need to unwind – and I mean that in both ways – my muscles have been taut with tension for too long; I needed to let my mind unfold from its twisted position, needed it to relax out of its tight fist.
I needed to be able to feel again.
I know I can get away with much because it’s so simple to become numb. It’s become as easy as breathing now – it goes on just fine until you notice that you are breathing and then it becomes more difficult to do. It’s like second nature.
But I want to do away with this shield. I want to tear off this covering as violently as possible and expose the raw me underneath. I want the cold and the heat to sink in fully and to set me ablaze with cold fire. I want to burn.
It isn’t fair that they may feel so passionately and I cannot. I want to feel as they do. I want to be embraced by that turmoil of passion that will tangle itself in my hair and hold me tight against the storm. I want that storm. I want it as my own. I want to possess it, and it to possess me, embrace me and clutch me with its cold stone fingers. I want it to scourge the numbness away. I want to feel.