.pour-ing.with-in.

It’s there headed my way almost here and i can’t help but fear what scene is next. And. I. Can’t. Stop. It. My thoughts or things like it gather mingle and part ways all out of reach far beyond my limited capabilities to process the whole thing not to mention how my depression and anxiety clutter it all contaminates the air that now I can’t breathe… It’s here and i cant help but fight it halfway cuz fighting 100% would feed the clusterofallfucks with anger plus 100% of useless it’ll render me. And. Before. I. Know. It’s filled me up and the weather’s all cloudy part rainy though silence is loud but always pretty though a sky so scarred its about split open as it feels my lust with silky hands.

And come out it must somehow so its pouring both within and without me not just in tears but in anxiety’s not so subtle cues via dizzy numb coldflashes with nausea as well as rainbow streaks of innatention, rays of distractibility still pouring and i must feel process and discard.

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