Honestly, this fucking sucks and I am filled with regret. I tell myself repeatedly to just get through a week and then a month, but I don't want to. I can feel myself dying, physically and emotionally. Retreating into a familiar pain in an unfamiliar landscape. There is no one here for me. No one to talk to by myself. No one to laugh with, or cry. Everything is inaccessible and I need help. Why did I run away? What am I running from? Would it be different in a city full of distractions? I don't have options; I can’t leave. I want to be at home but do I really even know what that would look like, home?

Day 2–3: Arriving in Malaga was nice; a familiar airport and climate. It took a while for the uber to come, and I waited patiently still feeling extraordinarily sick to my stomach. My teeth and jaw hurt, my muscles sore. A nightmare of physical symptoms. The airbnb was right in…

Day 1: The trip begins with leaving my parents at the airport, a difficult task. As I walked away from them, I could barely hold in the tears. I passed security and went through to the lounge where I had a beer then proceeded to order a J&B and ginger…

but i know tomorrow I’ll want more of the same when is it over ?

I was pretty alone not all the way but it wouldn't have made a difference anyway little kids are mean the new kid in town funny looking and most importantly inexperienced with public schooling Montessori was all I had known now that creative environment replaced by sorrow or the closest to it a kid can feel every day a new challenge the same as before i didn't realize i was changing adapting to abuse

trade compromise false hope daily reminders of my state or lack thereof today it’s physical palpable my back fucking hurts no heavy lifting at least not tangibly my stomach fucking hurts a cocktail medicine aided by another medicine or so i try to convince myself the numbers don't lie medicine…

as a hole like guilt or greif a necessity unfulfilled a lack of warmth of safety of a place physical volume of my own where to ? at night in the cold and alone people around makes it hard bouncing back and forth need for shelter under cover of true safety and protection theirs is not right where then can I find mine ? if at all

piercing and bright you give me a reason sunny warm inviting and smooth spontaneously collected how do you do it ? are you real ? a product of something lost I’m sure I’m not alone in this sentiment and in life you inspire bravery charging at what is to me nothing good to you, a world sparkling and colorful rose colored realism I’ve told you too many times maybe of your ability what really then keeps you going ?

the one I couldn’t bear look at for months it almost smells like you still almost that’s why I couldn’t wear it it was you you were in it now you are just in my head quite a bit still more than I’d like warm memories wrapped in black melting in focus