for sylvia.

My heart is too big and my brain is far too vast.

this is indeed the source of my problems. this is the root.

I fear that no one will know me and that I will never open. That I will shut quite beautifully.I am the late bloomer and the bitch in a fancy suit. My red hair tangled up worries and preconceptions, it whips with vigor and distress. Big heart flowing out wants and needs. Big heart with no where to put any of it. Useless love that no one sees but the mind in my head. No one sees the daydreams.

I am lonely.

I fear that I am stilted. Sick. That I may never function quite right. That satisfaction will leave me naked in bed as it slips out the door. I am afraid. I fear failure and weakness. I hunt tears and pull them from my bones. I cannot stand idle hands and futile thoughts. Without work I am weak. Mile fast thoughts colliding and pumping blood into my head, causing me to breathe like one in labor, causing me to flee the scene. Sever the ties, leave out the noise. Bring in muddled waters, bring in fucked up pasts.

I am sick. Believe me I am dead.

I fear that I may never love a soul and be happy with it. That my mind will constantly chat as I helplessly watch from two stolen lenses. I watch as it shuts my ears off and brings in whispers. Will I ever want to be? I fear that I may never be in love or want to be touched. I fear I will always be the object and the queen of locusts. I fear my arms will never feel anything but the body it is attached to. I'm burrowing in my hole.

I lust for the recognition of a person who is long dead. I peer over my shoulder for his face. I wait to be taught things. I wait to be talked to. I know not one man in a personal manner. I wish to view it in it's pure state....I want to be there in that room. I hate him yet I am him. Guess that's a problem. A minor inconvenience like the one in my head every day.

i fear the words on this very page, out in the open.

I fear, I fear, I fear.

"I am, I am , I am"

I am sick.