It comes

It comes, now more and more.
I feel it at my back and it grabs my face, screams in my head. I feel it in my arms and hands and try to bang it out, but it won't work.

Red, that's the colour - I hate that colour, but that's the one.

Then, black, the void - falling and I can't stop it.

My throat hurts and I want it to stop; I want the red to go and the black too. I want to stop falling.

It feels like something is sucking my insides out and I'm afraid. I don't know what to do.



I went for a drive; I had to leave; I had to get away. I just drove, no where imparticulare, just drove. It felt freeing and relaxing to just drive. Not in a hurry to be. It's so cold outside and I want to be out there but I'm afraid to leave; I'm afraid of ppl; I don't want them to come over and I don't want to go see them. I want to be alone but then again I'm afraid to be alone and I don't want to be. I don't know who will win this internal war that is waging.

I guess I'll just ride it out and hope the red doesn't come back.