who i am.

insight fiftyeight i haven't written, nor thought about doing so, in a month. i can't say i'm sorry because i'm not, time away isn't always easy but my minds been too full to fathom words on a page, or a screen. my hands shake like an alcoholic yet my alcohol is liquid nerves, worries and unslept nights. my eyes tired, stained black with attempts of beauty that try to hide the layers of sleep deprivation burrowing into my grey skin. my nails bitten within anxious episodes when at school, home or anywhere that caused internal terror in my brain. mind flickers from thought to thought, clockwork timing to circle round and round that same point, the same pin the works that stops me from achieving the full happiness i should feel for upcoming events, and past celebrations. tick tock. tick tock. the thought jitter, mixing into one pile of letter, numbers, like binary code but making no sense. blind to the plain sight of pain inflicted within, the silent torment stopping