I'm here right now. But I'm not. It's like I'm trapped in a bubble, running around in my thoughts, the bubble is only as big as my room, relatively speaking, and nothing seems to be getting in. Well, wait. Not nothing. Christ. He's trying to get in. Even though He's already inside. Even though I've already invited Him. He's having trouble talking with me because I'm going in circles with myself. Round and round and round and round.
I want to be held by someone right now. I want to feel small in their arms. I want them to tell me I can close my eyes and breathe. I want them to tell me I'm not going to fall apart and shatter when they touch me.
God I can't hold you. I can't look into your eyes. I can't hear you breathing. Or see the blood fill your body with life.
What is this thing within, seeking to torment with malice?
