Feelings. Intense dealings, I’m spiritually kneeling before the proceedings while fearfully concealing needing teachings of healing. Confused. Bleeding. Through baited breaths barely breathing. Write something worth reading.

Stop!!

This is what the liquor was for. Prevent feeling more of the emotional war scratching at the door. Drink it all away before I’m drowning in the roar. Let them in! Let them in. Give those feelings the floor. The memories that make them wish to settle the score.

Seems I should have them. They’re normal. They’re needed. I tried really hard but they can’t be deleted. They don’t happen once, no, they keep coming back. I start to believe that I’m under attack. They creep up my legs and they sit on my chest, they strangle my hands and they won’t let me rest. They sweat up my brow and they tense up my spine, they grind up my teeth while I mouth that I’m fine. Then every so often a nice one sneaks through and reminds me that feelings have good symptoms too.

Often I wallow in the hardest of thought, the hurt is familiar but it’s not all I’ve got. It convinced me it was until all I could see was a future of nothing but sad memory. I caused way more pain than I ever avoided, efforts in vain only ever eroded. I accept I have feelings though I’m not always pleased but the good ones are worth it so the chance must be seized. Numb is appealing when the hurt makes you pay but the problem with numb is the good goes away.