Azibel

The weirdest part of divorced parents when one is estranged is seeing photos on Facebook posted by a friend of a friend who you aren't sure how exactly you know them with furniture you remember the exact location of in another house another time when Mom and Dad were still under the same roof with their twin partners Tension and Stress and later, when it was just Dad in the house your parents had shared and you sat on the carpet, pulling it up. The carpet felt weird under your skin: sad and lonely or maybe that was just the walls of the house mourning like you were for a relationship that was over before you were born but lasted for ten year

functional is getting out of bed and doing something anything as long as it distracts me staring at myself in the mirror doesn’t count as a distraction hyperfocus on every blemish you’re twenty why do you still have acne close your eyes and look away there’s no such thing as good enough functional is getting out of bed and going to class putting on a face tricking everyone even myself into believing i’m a well-adjusted member of society until the mask is peeled off layer by layer functional is not curling up in bed crying and hyperventilation and panic attacks at three in the morning because you’re not enough y

I open my eyes. I'm surrounded by whiteness, dreamily floating through nothingness. Hard white ground appears below me and I fall. A crystal heart sparkles into existence and I stand up and face it as a dark knife is thrown into its crystalline beauty. The heart cracks, echoing throughout the whiteness and forcing me to my hands and knees. I lift my head and watch the first piece fall. It clinks to the ground, the glassy sound echoing as the cracking heart did. "No..." I breathe. I start to crawl forward. A man kicks me, with enough force to send me sprawling. I feel intense pain, and another piece fractures off and falls. I pull myself b

watching waiting. she stands there and lets the salty water crash over her feet, burying them in the sand. anyone who's stood where the waves gently roll over your toes knows the feeling — first the sand beneath your heels is stolen away, and your arches are still supported, making for an awkward way to stand until you shift your feet. the sand feels cleansing, like it's washing everything away. she can stand there and take this, this simple wave over her feet. and she stands there and contemplates life as her skirt blows in the wind, a hand on the fabric in modesty. her hair blows into her face on the salty wind, and she makes no mov