Loneliness seeps into my bones like the chill of a December night.
Ice in my veins.
Fifty pounds upon my chest.

I want to feel you next to me.
I want to feel your warmth.
I want to feel your skin.

I want to hear your voice.

Process.
One word.

proc·ess, pro·cess/ˈpräˌses/, /prəˈses/

Noun:A series of actions or steps taken to achieve an end.

Have you ever said a word aloud so many times that you forget what it means?
I think that's what you've done.

Rain falls.
It sounds like an angry crowd.
So many screams that only white noise is produced.
It subsides.
Drip.
Drop.
Drip.

Trees crack with the violent wind of a spring storm.
Branches fall.
Harsh thuds against the deck behind me.

I lay here in bed.
Listless.
Pained.
Afraid.

Darling, wrap your arms around me.
Somehow be here.
Be with me.

No natural disaster can ( Read more... )

Six o'clock. 
Jitters.
Black dress.
Peach bow.
Sandals.

Doorbell.

There you stood. 
Annapolis tshirt.
Plaid shorts.
Perfection.

Italian food.
Long walk.
Baseball.

"I guess this is goodnight.."
"It doesn't have to be, have you ever been to Folly?"
"Let's go."

Walking.
Moonlight.

Tide coming in.

Fireworks in my chest.
Fuses lit.
Waiting to combust.

Talks of God.
Love.
Fear.

( Read more... )

Inhale ( Read more... )

Deep breaths, Julia. Breathe in.

Cough.

I feel my lungs are caving in. My chest is cracking.
I can't handle the pressure.

There's a monster in me, a Mister Hyde, per se.

Fire engulfs my body. My limbs aching, burning.
The rage in my chest.

Pulse.

Memories flood my mind like gas in a hot air balloon.

Pushed against a wall.
Thrown into a bedroom.
Clothes being ( Read more... )

Sitting.
Tick. Tock.

Trigger.
Unknown.

Memories blur.
Fear.
Pulse heightens.

Hands around my neck.
Isopropyl alcohol.
Stauffers flatbread pizza.

"the pizza is burning... please. stop. GOD DAMN IT FUCKING STOP!"
Those were the only words I could vomit out of my dry throat.

screaming.
choking.
burning.

"Oh God, my stomach. Stop. ..please?"

blood.

you deserve this, ( Read more... )

Hearing stories about my ex boyfriend.
Being told about bands.

We cling so hard to summer of 2009.
The summer where we were all head over heels with our first loves.

We cling so hard to those high school memories,
fleeting thoughts that bring us so much joy.

We try to re-create them.
Make them anew with different people and new cities.

It doesn't quite ( Read more... )

Two weeks ( Read more... )

Alcohol.
Dizziness.

"Julia, hit this. It's good synth."

Cached the bowl.
Jitters.
Burn.
Exhale.

Couch.

Kaleidoscope.
Colors.
Beats.
Fear.

Oh, God. The fear.

I'm spinning.

There's voices.

"Julia... Julia, are you okay?"
No! I'm scared!

"Julia, can you hear me?"
I can! Help me, please.

Music turned to colors.
Colors to lights.
Lights to tastes.

Vomit.

Hands everywhere.

( Read more... )