Faith

And then time started scaring me, my thoughts started scaring me, my feelings couldn’t even take it any longer and wanted to escape my body, my soul wanted to leave my body, i started feeling uncomfortable in my own skin, i couldn’t touch myself, i’d put my hands to my ears and scream in disgust, id cry in the shower so you couldn’t tell my tears apart from water, and not because i wanted the water to wash them away, i started hearing sirens louder, the cry for help, over the ice cream truck in the block on a summer night, a summer night that felt good, one on which u could sit easily in your blanket, hear the crickets chirp over music and anything else, and the wind, the wind, i loved listening to the wind, not hearing but listening, and what were the crickets saying or chirping rather? that wind, a little cool, slightly breezy, and far from hot, wind, i loved it, i loved feeling it, i loved letting it touch my face, my skin and sink into my soul, theres a place my mind started to wander to which no one else could get to, was i heading down the road to insanity? well even if i was, at least my thoughts were written proof from "before i went insane,” or “how i became insane,” either one was to be the title of my “book” that I’ve started many times throughout the course of my life but i’d have to be in a certain state of mind, separate from this world, i’d have to be outside this world, and kinda have it like a globe in the palm of my hands, i’d shake it and see my entire 23 year old life behind, and only then would i be able to write the unknown, some things even the self hid from its shadow, the mind from the soul, so it’d be buried somewhere in the mind but the soul was not to know about it, so it wouldn’t feel the pain, the mind’s job was to tackle it before it reached the soul. i lived in such a fairytale world in which she’d ride down a hill on a bike, racing with the wind, the wind blowing through her hair, her laughing, listening to music that made her wanna feel nature, start singing perhaps, and there he would be behind her, in the night you’d lay down, watch a movie, laugh about something or cry about how times are hard but you still have each other, aah the hopeless romantics, where do they go? what do we do about them? does that kind of stuff even exist anymore? what if it did when you didn’t want it, now u can’t have it, and what if it was because you went after what you thought was what u wanted but it wasn’t, but will it? doesn’t matter, it isn’t what you want in the moment, is the problem, but you’re still hopeful that one day you’ll look back and hope you’ll know y it wasn’t and it wasn’t for the better, faith