It feels like there is a balloon about to burst in my chest. A basketball with too much air: one pump away from utter decimation.
It feels like my heart is about to combust; the fire within has begun to consume my veins and swallow my soul.
Every day I destroy myself. Sometimes as a form of self punishment, other times simply from choosing to stay. A petal falls from the rose under the glass dome; the magic slowly dying.
When you give so much of yourself that you forget who you are how do you go about picking up the pieces of what's left?
Will thoes whom claim to love me now also change their minds in the future..
Being nerurotypical must be so lovely. To be able to move one with such ease; to just leave.
My autistic brain says I have no right but my heart and soul want to cry out and scream, they want to run and break and punsh and kick and destroy.
I'm so tired, of being the bad guy, or being the hard one, of being the one no one can handle.
For once. I just want to be empty. Not fulled with rage like molten metal.
Hollow like a goard floating up the river.
I'm tired of containing this rage. I need to expell it.
But how...?
-Pandaish