Kill

Why is it that we think we can take the ones we love for granted? Treat them like sh!t just because we know we can. Why does that saying, “we hurt the ones we love” even exist? Trapped in the car for two hours yesterday and that’s all I could think about. Rant about inside my head. I came up with so many excuses it made my brain hurt. Emotional sabotage. I’m afraid to speak for fear of letting more garbage come out of my mouth. I don’t know what I want to say, I barely know what I want to mean. I come across as foolish and frivolous when my feelings are anything but. It’s stupid to think that I can reason with the unknown. Sometimes, I am bold enough to think I am indestructible and I can wrestle any insecurity to the ground, pin it under my pride and carry on. Not so. Never so. I saw metaphors in the landscape. Trucks rolled by me, as big as whales. State troopers hungry like sharks evoked fear in this sea of bumper to bumper transportation. I’m a minnow in my little green sirsy bug (with the new cracked windshield and squeaky brakes). I’m cruising along, singing, “…these are days…” at the top of my lungs, trying to drown out the voice of stupidity. I don’t want to think about what makes us hurt one another. Because we can, so we do.