I need space

[two hundred, seventy-nine]

I say this often, but I don't have much to say today. I feel like a shotgun bullet hit my chest and I fell into the ocean, the salty water filling my chest my lungs my head, my mouth and I want to scream but it burns and I want to climb out but I am paralysed. I have been drowning here and it seems like everytime I try to get out, to swim out, I end up deeper because there is no escape. Why am I so down? Why is everything bleak and dark blue? Why is it that I feel like bedtime is the best time again?

I feel like my hands are covered in papercuts and the salt stings, stringing together what I feel and what I think. Pain is minute in the grand scheme of things, but in all honesty, I'd rather feel pain than nothing at all. Spoken truely, but more or less stolen, I would rather feel pain and love then nothing at all.

I hate hurt, I hate feeling down, I hate drowning. I want to hold a hand for an hour or two and just get out, for a break, atleast for a little while. I want a hug that means something, something new. I need something new.

I need something new.

Jess