Quiet.
Wait, I hear my heart.
It hears my brain screaming and beats to hide the sound.
The darkest corners stand out but what's under your nose is hidden.
I wait for them . . . listen . . .
For the voices to speak to tell me I should die.
The answer is there but all is disguised.
It's all too clear for anyone to see. The answer to me is hidden so very cleverly.
Everything scares me so fucking much. I can't face it all at once. One thing at a time even scares me to death.
I dream about the voices. If I could hear them there would be reason. A reason why I feel this way. A reason for not seeing the future. A reason for me.
I sit and I dream.
And I survive.
Blizzard Skies 4-26-85
