Feel me.

Dear you,

you know that feeling when you just close your eyes and feel your heart beating. and you imagine it on the palm of your hand, and think, that if, that should, that when you open it up- it'll come out hollow and empty, bleeding warmth, bleeding life. it's a good kind of wrong, a paralyzing helplessness that just leaves you at the mercy of the cruelty of the world; open, wide eyed and fearless all at once.

i love it. it feels like falling. like dying. like living.

like breaking my soul into a thousand little pieces so that imperfections, that cracks and splinters are just glittering dust.

like you're insignificant, and that's okay, cause the world's alright without you. cause everything is how it's supposed to be and it's alright to be nobody special. it's like when it's just about to rain, and you hear the pitter patter of the droplets crashing against the window pane. just tapping. as if to say, don't worry about it all, we're here for you, we'll drown you, we'll freeze the blood in your veins, stop your heart, and soon your brain and the rest will follow.

it's like the weight of the world's crushed you, left you curled up on the floor. finally at peace.

and that's all we need. a little peace.

a little piece of me in peace with myself.

and with the world screaming at you, schedules and time whizzing and whirring in spite of you, marching and trampling on all of you cares, it's hard enough to find that without stripping yourself down to the bare essentials.

a heart to feel it all. the good and bad. the sad, in the absence of happy. the happy in spite of the sad.

the rest will crumble with time; the body will fold to neglect and age, the mind will slow and dull despite whatever carefully crafted intelligence, i will lose sense of who i am...

but never what i feel. and that's enough.