i have watched people breaking
. i've listened and i've held heavy thought, cradled it against my shoulder or let it rest in my lap. i have seen wild, desperate eyes struggling to find things that they never will. i've felt my own eyes darting about a room filled with people i could never talk to, drinking in everything and nothing, and i live for people who do not trust the smile on my face
unless it matches the feeling in my stare.
he told me that he just wanted to find it, that thing that most everyone would be looking for if they chose not to close off. the thing that those who do not close off latch on to, it carries them, a terrifyingly beautiful spiral into insanity
. almost everyone knows how to shut it off, some people only access it when they need to, but others prefer to let it rest forever, or at least, until there is no more forever until they realize it all ends, some time
. and then, there are those who can't shut it
, off, or, the struggling
. some people scream into endless days
of a mental torture that does not subside, will never.. some people turn to things that just make it all worse, in the end.
i'd wanted to be inside of his brain. i had, when i saw him that first day, wanted in so badly, and it seemed like something that would not happen. it did, somehow. there were icy cold hands (my own)
and unsettled feelings that threw me, almost too hard, and i could only hold onto little shreds of sanity
or, at least, something so much more stable then the careful path one must tread when travelling through someone else's head
. i live to know that people can let me in like that.
and so, i saw it again, and i fed on it, i loved it but it hurt to know that it is. that he is so trapped in his head sometimes that i am not the only one, though i would suppose, i already knew
. i am glad that i am not pointy or sharp, that someone i hardly know could see things inside of me what few others ever do. people thank me for caring, sometimes, for listening or for simply being there to listen, especially when they can't speak. i need it, sometimes. i need to feel them breaking and try to hold them together or to pull there thoughts and bodies and minds into one again, after the fall
.. i need it. it keeps me here, in the clouds or on softest ground.. to know that others question their own sanity, i need that.
to everyone who has ever spilled their head to me, who has ever trusted me with things that they could not share elsewhere.. to those who would let me hold their heads, to those who make me feel like i have a purpose.. thank you. i needed inside of your heads, just as much as you needed out