Eric Church - Lightning

I set my media player on shuffle and pray whatever it decides helps.
　It never does.
Whenever I'm upset, or happy, the song always urges that emotion on.
　I swear they're a tag team of some sort.
But maybe, maybe it's just that; when my body decides how it wants to feel, everything just fits in that mood. And nothing can break through. Everything has a place.
　Everything has a place. Except me.

So I'm stuck. Between that stage of awake - barely able distract myself and asleep - were I wouldn't have to feel anymore and I can dream of the things I want. But no, I'm stuck. Semi-sleeping, semi-awake. Still feeling everything.

"You know that place between sleep and awake, the place where you can still remember dreaming? That's where I'll always love you. That's where I'll be waiting."

It's 4am and I shake myself awake. I don't remember the dream, or if there was even a dream. Maybe a memory. Wish. Maybe. But it stung, it's ripping at a cavity I can't fill. Everything has a place. Even the emptiness. It's empty, but it's there. And I know exactly what can fill it. And know exactly too well, what won't be there to fill it when the quarterised sections shred, again.
　You're hearing things, again.
I'm turning off my pixie lights. They're too bright in the black. The music's too loud. Maybe that's what finally got me awake. It goes down with the lights. Falling into bed with a sigh. I don't remember picking up my bear, but, she's here now. I can hold her while I sleep. I don't care you knows, who see's, I need to hold myself together. I can't cry again. Not again. Hand, palm up beside me. ..Just in case.

Oh, it's morning. My alarms screaming from under the pillow. Did I set it? Shouldn't it be louder.. Who cares. I'm up. And, now I know why the music wasn't loud enough. The stitches tearing sang out above the noise. Noise. It's not noise, it's music, there is a difference, I know. Who cares.
　Get in the shower. Get your hopeless heart up, and do what you do best. Cope.
Now, we sit. In the bottom of the shower. The hot water ran out awhile ago. Or was it never on? How long.. No. It was never on. I should have gotten completely undressed. Too late now.
　Do what you need. Get up. Get out. Cope.
Now we'll do our hair, makeup. Everything to impress no one. No one would notice if you didn't do any of this. They wouldn't care. The never care.

We. We did this, together. I felt you. I feel you.
　I still need you.

School was good.
　Say it and believe it. Believe it, so they believe you. You're getting better at this.
How much longer will I lie to them before my lungs start falling to the lie, instead of falling to pieces. School was good though wasn't it? You laughed. And you forgot. They held you together for awhile. You were coping, right?
　Pull the clouds from my eyes. Let me see this, for what it is. Stop the aching and wanting to run, again. Stop it. Stop. Cope. Fit. Find where you belong.

It's late. But it's this way these days. Stuck in the twilight of your mind.
Before you can think, your pulling the dog out the door. I need an excuse to get out. Anywhere. I walked to far, for too long. But I don't care, I don't want to be at the place I sleep.
　If home is with those who love you, where do I belong?
Crying. Crying over everything. The fact the streetlight doesn't work. The fact you'll be home soon. The fact the only thing with you here is the animal who -as long as you feed him- will walk beside you. And even then..
Almost home. It got darker quicker than it should have. I'm pulling it together before I get to the door. No one cares, but I don't need them to stare. Online. Check. No.
　Always no. Always.

You're not going to cry again. Not tonight. You're going to do this. You can live without them. You don't need to run. You belong where you can. You seem like you fit. They think you do. All what they think. I don't care what they think. I only want one person to care, and I know they do.
　Distance. Always too far.
Post - reply - appear what they want - start over.

I'm falling asleep without you.
Falling apart alone.
But I'm happy, for you. I'm happy, for you.
Palm up. Cold and empty. Find your way to me while I'm covering self inflicted bruises. Curing the ache. Quarterising the bleed.
　Wishful thinking, love.
Forever. Not forever. Everything has a price.
　Everything has a place. Except me. Cope.

"It's not safe out there.
Oh, and it's safe in here?"

Thursday19th.