never wasn't important anyway

talking talking talking dirty dirty

waiting. holding patterns. waiting for a missive or a threat or both. maybe uselessly. either way, anxiety piles up in specks and pixels...not quite enough to cause my heartrate to change, but enough to send a swirl of sourness through my stomach, like a slow curl of incense smoke. all the 'maybe's and not-fear caught in my throat.

don't i have every right to change, if i don't like who i am? if what i was before is making me sick and unhappy? i ask questions like this to the thin air {prayers whispered into the Wired} because i know the answer to them. other people may not like those answers.

my sister sent me a bracelet that reads 'what i do is not up to you', and before i fell ill, i wore it every day. i need to start wearing it again. she knows me better than i know myself. and i should pay attention to what she says. she was and always will be the wiser half of the two of us. if anyone in the world can probably defy the odd human urge to peek slyly at things we know will throw barbs into our hearts, it would be her. she calls me supergirl, but she has more strength than i ever will, in more ways than one.

i need to start doing many things again, no matter what other people think. you are not going to tell me who i am or how i should live. i am not setting my life on fire to keep you warm, or even entertained.

i am tired of living in anxiety or fear or trepidation.
i am tired.
but i am not going to be forever.

words to get my throat cut and my secrets slaughtered.
{come at me.}

031018 10:17wearynight