Turmoil High

Sometimes you have to be willing to open the gate to your heart’s hurtful parts and close the door to anything good for a while to really get a taste of reality at its entirety.

My mind is a mess. This place is too familiar. This place brings both the worst and the most creative parts of Me. I believe that fucked up people are usually the most fucked up. I’m attracted to the fucked up, the people who give into their demons, who pride themselves on their worst parts.

What’s in the air here? It’s amazing how you can drive to places and not see things and then walk those same trails and feel everything.

I’m swinging and all of a sudden my thoughts are heavy and my mind is on a high like I just took a pound of cocaine, without the buzzing and the faint breathing and crash.

Triggers inflate and sorrows swallow me close into turmoil, racing too fast to stop it, desire to win is behind. My mind walks further than my body.

I’m travelling for free without the turbulence and babies crying in my ears, but I’m at home with my heart screaming with walls of temptations

I’m slaying new destinations meanwhile living in constant construction.

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