forcing the exhale
that constant, paranoid, choking feeling
is my burden. my daily struggle.
my inability to stop thinking and just breathe.
that constant, paranoid, choking feeling
is my burden. my daily struggle.
my inability to stop thinking and just breathe.
He was straight laced and corny, with a penchant for expensive shoes and designer gifts. He had abominable taste in music and wore copious amounts of khaki. He golfed. I told him dirty jokes while slamming whiskey and dragged him to rock shows in filthy dive bars. I wore skintight denim and had his birthday tattooed on my wrist.
with the wedding only thirteen days away i entered panic mode this morning. hard.
i can feel it coming. like i always do. slowly. quietly. softly. gaining speed and building momentum. growing. ignore it and it isn’t real. but it grows. until it is too big to ignore. too big to overcome.