A lump is growing in my throat as my mouth dries up, my palms feel clammy and my heart might beat out of my chest. With each breathe, the crack in my heart that was sloppily stitched starts to rip at the seams... it hurts. It nags. It weighs on my lungs.
The rock in my stomach hardens when a little voice in my head whispers, "You knew this would happen" and while my eyes are dry, I am crying inside. Violently shaking. (The only time I can physically cry is when alcohol is involved).
Make it all go away. His eyes. His smile. His false promises. (I am begging to no one).
While you may act like "the wind," I remain--
a fish gutted on the sidewalk.
The rock in my stomach hardens when a little voice in my head whispers, "You knew this would happen" and while my eyes are dry, I am crying inside. Violently shaking. (The only time I can physically cry is when alcohol is involved).
Make it all go away. His eyes. His smile. His false promises. (I am begging to no one).
While you may act like "the wind," I remain--
a fish gutted on the sidewalk.
Hi Steph! You have a really coooool blog!! I followed you via GFC. Please check out mine as well and follow it, if you like it: http://fashion-coma.blogspot.ro/
ReplyDeleteLove, Katie