Mar 16, 2013
I'm sick of being so fragile, sick of words catching in my throat, of holding back even when I want to scream. I crave the worlds that my mind creates, and am disappointed time and time again when I realize they are so far off from reality. I thought I was Brave, but there is so much to work for and so much to prove. I feel like I have my heart flung over my shoulder, still attached to my body, my thoughts and impulses wanting to catch up with its impatient beating and pulling; of wanting to somehow escape while I remain standing.