You tell everybody that you're alright,
But you're falling apart at the speed of light.
You know the things that nobody knows,
You go the places nobody goes.



Things are confusing. One minute, I'm on a path of destruction, the next, I swing back to thinking about other people and how -they- feel. Everything is just so raw, exposed - like a cut that just won't heal over. But I don't know how I got cut. It just appeared one day, and emotions started pouring out in the form of blood.

It feels, sometimes, like nobody wants me around. As though, if I have nothing to offer, I'm just taking up space, and using up everybody elses air. I stare at people with an empty gaze, and on the occasions that they look back at me, it's with a look of disgust, as though I shouldn't be there. Maybe I shouldn't.

I've become a moth. I flutter around shining lights, because maybe if they can shine their light on me, I'll be a bit brighter. I'm not nearly as graceful as a butterfly. The dust on my wings keeps me weighed down, closer to the ground. I blend in well when pressed against a wall, and more than often, you just pass on by, because I am invisible.

My mind no longer filters dangerous thoughts. It welcomes them with banners and balloons, asking if they brought along risky cousins. But my body protests, writhing against invisible forces that push me to become somebody that I don't recognize. I'm unsure of who I am, or where I am going.