Leaking.
She fears she is leaking.
Wisps of her soul seep out,
As tears drip slowly,
Surreptitiously leeching salt
In place of racking sobs begging for release.
Hope hisses out, silently palpable
Crucial air streaming from her tires
With every exhale blowing away repeated indignities.
Faith oozes away, invisible yet pungent
Escape betrayed by acrid residue
Residing on clothes, skin
In each moment exertion keeps panic at bay.
Essence of herself drifts away
In nightmare-etched sighs from sleep-clenched jaws
Sucked from remembrance, existence
By wind tunnel of open cell doorway,
With all vulnerabilities, nakedness, exposed.
Pulling patches from love, phoned home
Scavenging duct tape from friendship, mailed
Collecting band-aids from smiling eyes & lips
She contrives to plug the leaks.
Arisen from the Conflagraton 
This was a while ago, but I feel it from your words.
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This one I definitely remember writing
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I imagine that you would. It’s one of the deepest.
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I’m pretty sure I was literally crying when I wrote it
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Right in the feels. 😦
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Sorry!
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No, don’t be. The frowny face was for you, not me. I don’t mind feeling other people’s feelings. I mean, I can’t really prevent it, so I might as well not mind.
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Wow. I hear you. And thank you
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You’re welcome. It’s a dark feeling, trapped and sad and a little scared, and all the shame and guilt. And all those feelings being slowly replaced by robotic numbness might actually be worse.
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In the long run yes. In the short run it’s survival
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Ah, I understand. That makes sense. Long term, yes.
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