Confession…introspection…

I believe that I killed my Q.

My thoughts swirl like a bastard wind that won’t stop blowing.

I fear my thoughts, so I shut them down, refusing to look at them as they hurl themselves into my understanding.

I can’t abide for my eyes to be open. I do not deserve to see.

The world quakes with blurred sight as the tears cascade down my face.

I hate where I work.

It is a stupid place to work.

We have no answers.

We merely create, then ignore the quest.

I told him to walk away.

…just walk away.

Get the fuck away from your crazy chick.

Crazy chicks will put you in jail.

Then I will have to change jobs.

My personal little crusade will be for nothing.

And it will be your fault.

I killed him.

He walked away..

…and then he died.

My thoughts tangle themselves around my throat and gently squeeze the life out of me.

I shall let them.

I do not fight for breath…but breath comes anyway.

Nausea and fatigue are my soul mates.

I have no answers to give them anymore.

I don’t know how to make the ignorant things stop happening.

My advice will kill a person.

My mouth should be sealed shut.

I no longer speak freely, I begin to think…but it must be kept silent.

I have no answers.

I am inside out with questions.

I have spent some glorious time blaming others.

But I know, that it was my words that lead him away that night.

I know.

She was just being who she was and what she will always be... psychotic.

Living is dangerous business.

Teaching is a minefield of FUCK!

Who we are is what we say.

I am a killer.

And I am a disastrous mess of simple answers to complex enigmas.

306 words and I am no closer to retribution.

The earth should swallow me whole.

It is not the purge that is the point.

The purge could never ease the disgrace.

I admit there will be no absolution to the wound I pick at to keep me awake.

I no longer seek…

Seeking is pointless.

We can all dance around the words…and words have such power….such power.

I found no solace in the blaming…

It merely is what it fucking is.

To late to rethink.

Thinking is what caused this great tragedy.

Thoughts are evil.

Evil is merely the absence of God.

Rambling, shambling unease will qualify the audacious.

I cannot lead. I cannot speak. I cannot.

They pull me into a room to understand the circumstance.

I have lost my words.

I fake the answer.

I talk in circles to alleviate the drama.

I shouldn't be there.

Still, I know and comprehend more than most, but it is not good enough.

The effects of the medicine washes over my soul, as I try to disembark from the rest.

Silent calm eases the fire in my mind.

I should not be calm… I do not deserve the whiteness of bliss.

I gulp the tranquility because I am human…merely mortal…merely a girl.

I was a girl who told him to get away from the crazy to save himself…but instead it killed him.