carbon-lacing

I am sitting here and crying. Not a few tears but full-on bawling. Like I am having a hard time seeing the screen as I type. I am choking and my shoulders are heaving, I am breathing like a plastic bag has been put over my head. I am positive I am dying.

The moisture is draining out of my eyes, my nose and maybe my mouth, I cannot tell, I am moaning like I am possessed by a banshee. My chest is inflating like I am trying to blow up a balloon after smoking a carton of cigarettes. I am sitting on my hands, rocking back and forth hoping I can take flight and leave from here and disappear.

Or at least make myself quite small so no one will ever see the likes of me again.

It hurts like nothing I have ever felt before, the stabbing, the knowing, the slamming of the piano keys and low, humming and gentle taunting love songs you remember dancing to when you thought, foolishly before you knew about the lies, the betrayals, or how you were never with the person you thought you were.

You cannot close your eyes because all you can see is the hope and depth that you felt when they held you when their body was close to yours. The liquid that stings your nostrils is not great enough in quantity to drown you but enough to remind you of fluid leaving his body that hit your chin, cheek & nose and you both found this to be amusing later. Now you feel gross and cannot get yourself clean enough.

Nothing was special everything was to fill a void and you were always going to be second best to him.