shouting,

her thoughts were so loud she couldn't hear the words she spoke.
She spoke them out of habit, answering questions and making simple conversation.
Everything was simple to her, nothing worth the hassle it entailed, but her mind
filled to the brim with complicated thoughts and memories.

She couldn't breathe...

... she was drowning again, being pulled down the same spiralling plughole. The suffocation didn't ease, she felt it whilst she slept, she felt it in her waking moments but worst of all she felt it in her happiness, a happiness so false she found herself gasping for air at the best of times. Her chest cavity becoming heavier and heavier with an emptiness determined to hold her back. She was losing the battle to remain herself and was slowly letting it consume her. She was planning to run and she was planning to run far and forever.

The odds were always against her

She often got the urge to scream and shout, the urge to be angry at God and to curse the day she was born. She felt she could not do a single thing right in this world so filled with judging eyes. Why had they taken from her the only thing that felt right and home to her? Was it punishment for what was in her mind? Was it punishment for all those times she couldn't play along? Yet the punishments refused to end they haunted her at night with mares of life as it could be, they haunted during the days with passing memories of how things used to be. She found not her sanctuary in the places where they used to be. Not a word spoken by another had helped and she had not felt she could speak her words to another. She carried on down a road so steep she felt as though she were falling. Her dreams were nothing more than pleas at god, her hopes nothing more than the cries of a pessimist. She felt not sadness at her loss but neither did she feel happiness at her gains, she felt nothing. Only longing. She loved not another for she didn't know how. She hated not but one, realising it was too late to ever feel anything but hatred for this one. She forgave all but him for being the devil in her reality. She was tired of living sometimes but wasn't ready for death, if she could merely not have existed. She wished she could stop falling and feel the grass again then she would walk away from it all and live again.

Maybe,

It's time to stop writing here in this blog. It doesn't make me feel better to speak my forbidden thoughts. Just encourages me to dwell and indulge in them. We'll see, if i start writing else where then I'll just come back. Until then i will be infinite everywhere, always.

From that moment on,

she knew her sadness was hers alone. She bore the kind of sadness that had the power to destroy others, that had destroyed one other. Now, it destroyed her alone. Staining her blood, corrupting her mind and killing her heart. Her sadness forever to be trapped inside her.

"I love you,"

... she whispered when she knew he wasn't listening.

Today she cried,

... she cried the kind of tears that hid in the furthest corners of her heart. She felt pain like no other and an unbearable love for something she would never reach.
She looked at her calendar, 21st January it stated. "Its that date today," she told him.
"What date?" he asked. It was then she realised that it was one of those dates that were no longer allowed to mean anything, a past date, yet one that she would never forget.
"Nothing," she mumbled. "I got the dates mixed up."
She said as she turned her back to him so that he would not see the single tear rolling down her cheek.