(dis)ease

by The Dreamer

i’m so bloody difficult to be with right now, i’m not even surprised why i feel the gaping distance between me and everyone else that means (meant(?)) so much to me. oceans wide. i’m not even surprised if people don’t want to be around me, if they think i’m a horrible negative influence, a fraud, a corrupted individual, a broken-beyond-repair, a castaway, an alien, a germ, a disease.

i am a disease.

i am at (dis)ease.

i flinch physically when i hear the words “burden” being used of me. others may think of it as a joke, but i cannot shake off the feeling of horror creeping up like spindly veins with sharp thorns piercing through the capillaries of my heart.

i’m sensitive and i’m irrational and i’m emotional and i hate that.

if i could detach my physical and emotional presence from each other, i would. if only my skin came with a zipper starting from my hairline to my last toenail, and i could step out of my poisonous skin (or let the poison leak out from within, till i’m wrung dry, till i’m an empty vessel waiting to be filled with nothing but sunlight and love and positivity), i would i would i would.

i don’t like waking up to the feeling of being unable to breathe, like i’m constantly underwater, practically drowning in tears i didn’t even know i was shedding the entire night.

you think that if a person’s body mass is made up of 65% percent water, i would have lost all of my body mass, but it surprises me how much liquid can still constantly blur my vision and sting my eyes.

“stop hurting everyone.”

“stop being such a burden.”

things to think too much, everything to think too much, i always think too much.

Advertisements