Thing of the Past.

"I want to know your fears, from your feet to the back of your ears and when they raise the landing gear will your heart stay here? If you could forgive me for being so brash, well you… you could hit me or whip me, I’d savor each lash."

~   [Again, I’m stuck on…] -Say Anything

Something is very wrong.

I blamed the hormones for coursing my blood faster and faster and lining my arteries with sparks. I blamed my heart for refusing to stop beating. I blamed my family for fucking and for placing the vodka within my genes—my hands. I blamed my friends for scuttling away into darkness to find their own lights and games. I smashed my heart with my fist; and ate the pieces. And like a light going out, I sat down in blood.

And like a light going out,

I laid down and forgot to breathe.