Ask me a couple questions, and I’ll answer them in vague, smoke like ways.

Words drip like honey from my lips, easily twisted and parsed, like ankles or the English language.

I’m stuck in the in between, the fragile last push up the cliff of life… except I’m free climbing, and fifty percent of my class peaked in high school.

If I was a more optimistic person, I would say that I was about to emerge from my chrysalis, but I’m not.

I’m not a butterfly, I’m a human with narcissism and anxiety and a naive perception that most people my age have already cast aside.

I feel like I'm locked in a box most of the time, and when I finally notice I'm stuck, the walls get closer. It's like a constant vise is around my throat. . . it makes me gnash my teeth at night.

This is constant anxiety; the feeling like you've done something wrong when you actually haven't, and the near constant need to close your eyes and let the world melt away.