Feed the Fire

These coils
are the devil
I ignore

*update*
self-indulgent pity party has, for the time being, come to close. In advanced I am going to dance like a devil in a short blue dress, don't forget what you never knew not to miss. Love your guts.

The burn of hot in my throat as my legs pump the pedals of my bicycle up a hill, one down, two up, repeat ad nauseum.

The anger that I feel toward myself for allowing my heart to open just a sliver is unsurprising. The loss that I feel is strange, this amorphous feeling of rejection, that the tiny sliver of my heart that this person glimpsed made them not want to see any more. I need more complex people in my life, perhaps, people who are invested in pulling the shadows to the light.

I have shadows and am haunted. I see ghosts in the fragments of light catching the edge of a mirror. I, fuck, want to explain that I am not crazy just on edge.

In all of this the good is that I love you so much, all of you. I hope you know how much I rely on you from a distance. The worlds we create are invaluable.

Break

I just cried for half an hour curled into a chair. This is what I learned: I feel alone, scared, and fragile. People see the strength, the courage, the blah fucking blah of me being alive in this world, the defense mechanism of not needing anything from anyone; I expect people to be aware and recognize the foundation of this strength and courage are hard fucking won on a foundation of sensitivity that can at times be painful to inhabit.

Though, I was grateful to hear that I "really helped someone through a difficult time." I am threw myself into a spiral that is uncomfortable because I don't like admitting that I am feeling lost or in pain. It makes me want very much to dig into my chest with my hands and pull out my heart to see the rays of light I know are there, to show the world, look light streams out in out from our hearts.

More than anything I want someone to tell in lies I believe that it will all be okay, that I am alone in the cavern of my heart they are there with a light and that I am loved. I have an immense imagination and perhaps if the lies are told often enough the will become true.