Vulnerability: it's not something that I wear well. To lay it out for you would take a considerable amount of time, and trust, and emotional strain; I can't say it's worth it if you aren't going to be there for me when it's all in front of you. So the thoughts keep buzzing in my head, chasing their tails, digging deeper into the flesh of my brain, leaving a trail of scars, ensuring that I shall never forget, whilst reminding me that they're the only company I keep.
I need you, whoever you are, wherever you may be. I need the brush of your arm against mine, I need the warmth of your breath on my neck while you whisper that everything will be ok. I need your arms around me, sheltering me from the eyes which will shoot daggers when I reveal the truth. I need to you to save me from the mundanity of my own existence.
Don't judge me, please, on needing a saviour. I promise it doesn't happen all the time. But sometimes nothing can hold back the onslaught of emotion which rips through you, tearing a rift right through your soul. Sometimes you just need someone who will patch it all up and sew you back together from the skeins of flesh which decorate your room and the blood which paints the walls - reminders of how you couldn't hold it all back anymore. I'm not that close to the edge yet, but I'm on a downhill slope and I'm not sure I'm going to stop in time.
If I explode all over the room, please don't put me in a public place. Don't graffiti my pain across the most blank of walls, don't write it up in your books, don't tell it to your friends. Just be there for me while the blood runs down my neck and chest. Just be there when my blue insides become red outsides.
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