I take a little breather, I walk around for a minute or two. I listen to the sounds my body makes when it sighs out relief. Images beam in, beam out. At least I didn't harm myself today.
Blues and reds, weaving in, weaving out. "My everything". He called me his everything after he drugged and fucked me and I can't get those words out of my head. He said to me, "You know I could be your everything, and you can be mine. I'll take care of you, just let me in you."
Like a child, I tip toe along two different paths:
1. I take my life and take a shit on everyone who's ever loved me, or
2. I keep going after my dreams and focus on the things that lift me up.
I sing every day when I don't drown myself, I sing every day because I'm a survivor.