I feel like I’m underwater lately. As thought everything around me is either moving in slow motion, or is sped up so that the whole world zooms by, and either way I just stand still.

I feel like I’m an open book, a canvas half finished. Every detail is imprinted, permanent. Every word is inked under my skin, invisible but to me. Tattoos made of white hot iron, burning the flesh just under the surface.

I feel like a spring in a toy someone abandoned. A jack-in-the-box wound too tight for too long. I feel like a Slinky, jumbled up and tangled, incapable of being fixed. Discarded. Unwanted. Broken. Lonely.

I second guess every move I make, ever time I breath. Did I do that right? Should I have changed this? Is it time to let go yet?

I’d give everything I am. I’d give all of my broken heartbeats. Just to love again. Just to really, truly laugh again. To feel again.

I feel trapped inside my own body. It’s a cage, and it’s keeping me from dancing with the one I love.