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{"I anguish myself with the presence of a loved one to keep me alive inside of my head. 
Call me crazy, insane, a moron in all depths of despair, but my reluctance for somebody to love me as a whole rather than a midget of sensation was corresponding in waves through me. 
Our fingers have several neurons, sensations, and sensitivity to a single vascular touch, the nerves are all present, and when you burn it accidentally or not, it feels as if you are lit on fire alive. 
Knees scabbed, peeled flesh, broken limbs from the insides of us. 
In the blink of an eye for whom which grapples the tears, the child wanders through the streets as, the lights shun against their auburn hair, curly with twists and dangles as their soul, 
would once initially become about, it dangles and bounced up and down in the sensation of the sea corresponding with their calls for help, 
the rays of the moon shine bright in her hues and they gave her a midget sense of hope, the father glides through the streets and prances to find her daughter, 
lost in the night as he once was, 
he extended his hands and felt the scarf he had wrapped around her neck against his fingertips, he sucked in the odor of his child, his baby, he lifted her up from the ground and taught her how to fly, 
soar against the horizons, ordering her to never fall for the traps humanity has set for her, 
She would reluctantly bob her head up and down in agreement even though, she was detached from the universe already. 
She was placed in her father's arms and when the release happened to come and bypass, she screamed and yearned for her father's arms, to wrap around her and offer solace, 
she yearned for her mother's hands to glide through her follicles and massage her temple, kisses after kisses, whispering that every day will come to set, and every horizon will fall as humans have when the end suffices, the mourning was replenishing, her throat would clog up and she muffled the screams from the depths of her core into the pillow so that her parents wouldn’t realize how she would fall even if banned to do so; you aren’t allowed to fall, you were warned, you aren’t allowed to cry in a corner, you aren’t allowed to break down and fall onto your knees begging God to have mercy on your feelings, 
she isn’t allowed to nuzzle up the pills,lurking in the restroom cabinets, to fill the void of wanting with chemical ingredients extracted from harmful substances, 
they numb you, 
you cannot break down if you don’t have sentiments; 
since you aren’t allowed to, 
the child sneaks into the bathroom and clogs the pills down her throat, some slipping through the drain as she tried to catch them in the last moment. 
Not quick enough, she feels her hands shake her legs fumble, and her head feels light and ready to take the fall once in for all. The memorial of her quick and everlasting death, has reached the auditorium of her school, the crowds wailed in sync, and she smiled from the horizon with the pills coaxing her existence. 
There lies the parents' broken- fallen. 
Bottle it up so it reaches your throat and integrates down your spine, bottle it up so that the vase cracks from the pressure, don’t let it out, don’t be sentimental, that belongs to the children but you were young and full of sensations and neurons surfacing in your arteries, your hormones all over the place. You figure out the world and it stops you and prevents you from inhaling fresh air. 
You fall and break yourself as Joseph was broken by his brothers, you fall and fall and you cannot stop it until the pills rearrange you as a whole and… you stop feeling alive, the darkness shrouds and you cannot find an opening from the shadows that lurks and haunts, you stop feeling alive when you stop loving the people, 
who has loved you; the fallen and the failed. 
They failed you 
just so you could lie dead once more."}
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