I just want the sick to go away. I want it out of my head and I don’t want to feel it in my body. Not anymore. But I need it there because without it I am nothing. It has consumed me and it is all I am. It fills me up so, yet it leaves me so empty I’m not entirely sure how I feel. If I feel. My breath is short when I try to remember how this all happened, and I remember the day I started bending, and then the day I abruptly snapped. I never figured out how to put myself back together again. I think I lost some pieces in this process. I don’t think I’ll ever fit together just right. But that’s how it goes with people. They bend or they break and they never fit together again.
