Sometimes, it feels like the tears will never stop. They just keep pouring and pouring. The whispers I try to muffle keep escaping and I’m half-terrified that someone outside my room will hear. A locked door is useless against the sounds sadness makes.
Time is suspended. All that matters is my tiny space on the floor, its hardness comfier than the bed’s.
My eyes are burning but it’s nothing compared to the pain I feel in my chest. I want the pain to stop but at the same time I glory in it.
I need to feel the pain. I need to absorb it and hold it close. I don’t know why, but it’s important that I do.
Everything will be okay. I know this. But I think okay is a long, long, way off.