You see I'm not really here.
Physically maybe … but in my mind I'm in a soft renaissance painting dressed in silk, one that is only understood when you stand at a distance. Some days it's a Picasso painting all jagged and colorful with harsh lines cutting deep into the reality of memories I have worked hard to suppress. Most of the time it's just starry starry night when I close my eyes. I'm floating to the moon and everything is so far away – it feels so good to be so far away lost in the swirls of dark blue.
It's either bliss, hurt or mostly numb.