My emotions are different colors of paint splattering messily on a once plain canvas like I’m an abstract and you’re just there… watching me turn into a storm of unimaginable havoc and mayhem with low self-esteem and low serotonin flowing through my veins and I feel awful for making you sit through all of it.
I am either a calm and warm sunny day or a wrathful and uncontrollable hurricane.
I am either violently trembling I cannot focus or oh so exhausted I could stay still for weeks.
I am either wishing for my death to come swiftly or too petrified that I don’t want to be alone.
And once upon a time, I almost felt happy but no worries, it went away before I can even get attached to it. He may have broken my heart but did it hurt? No, not even a bit because when he left, it seems like he also took with him all of my emotions. It’s just a matter of getting used to it and expecting the worst.
You might even think that I’m way too aloof and insensitive.
But truth is; I am falling apart – slowly… silently, you won't even notice.
I am bleeding and I know pieces of my brain will be replacing what's on this canvas.
I’m scared, of course. I’m a time-bomb; amass of craziness and disaster and spontaneity concealed tightly in a small vessel and is desperately finding a way out to explode and when the time comes that I’m already fed up and I lose all of my strength that I can no longer hold back any of it, then oh God, somebody please save me.