My soul...

My soul is yearning, crying out for something...

That something is me...

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I pretend

That sinking feeling comes again. It comes in waves and then hits me all at once. Don't do it. Don't even think about it. Oh go on just a bit. No, nothing at all.  I run and run and run too scared to stop in case it catches up with me. I pretend its not an issue and pretend I'm normal like everyone else. What does that even mean? I say it so often but what does it actually mean? Normal to me, normal to you, normal to the person whose culture is completely different to mine, normal to some one who is a different race, gender, sexual preference. What is normal? Normal does not exist but yet I cling to the notion that it does like a fragment of truth trying to escape through a sheer fabric like the sun sneaking through my broken window. The bottom line is i'm scared it will all happen again and I'll be sat in a sinking mess like the bottom of a drain with hairs that are usually stuck in the sink covering me from head to toe. What would it feel like to run? The thing w...
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The remains of everything you left behind

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Your arms are not long enough to reach

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