it's odd, but even having been on my own last year, now that the spectre of me permanenetly moving away from this hellhole known as des moines is quickly becoming a solid entity, i'm terrified. there's a thousand tiny needles in my gut, twisting and poking holes in me.once there was so much for me here.
and now it's a graveyard of broken promises and painful memories, arranged like the weeks on calendars. where each stone is a date in my old life. buried but not forgotten.
so many gravestones.
so much pain.
just a few more steps and i'll reach the gate.
it's times like this i wish i could shut off like you do. like i could escape into my head and avoid the darkness like the hollows between the streetlights and find the warm place where i'm calm and content and quiet and hidden from the thoughts that wreak havoc on my mind.
hidden from my memories.
sometimes i'm jealous of your ability to do that.
