I want to talk to my bro, or anyone. I want help, just want to face my demons, face this past that keeps me up and keeps me in shock 24/7. I can't. When details arise, I choke on them. When I try, it is as though I am literally heaving each word.

No one in my life understands the things I've seen. They know a little, some more than others, and so, they can get the idea. But it's.. not the same. And there's questions. Always, and I mean, naturally. People get curious.

Idk. I'm drowning, man. I can barely even keep up the mask of jovial joker I am known for. People see it, somethings off, but I can't share.

I hear and see things long since over, be it asleep or in my waking day. I walk, eat, talk, work, and see these horrible times, horrible images or.. even relive them. I stare off and just shake, for however long. I ask questions that I KNOW are USELESS, but I also know that they are asked by the small child in me that still remains confused and afraid as to why he saw or experienced what he did.

Part of me recoils in disgust. Fucking weak, I say. But then.. I've done it all alone. Everything, everything, alone. No one to help. No one to listen. So I can't be so weak. But.. somehow, I am. Is it because I'm at a point I can afford to fall a part? Well, more than previous times.. is that it?? The fuck.

I can't keep together, I can't I can't. I cry and I rage out and I hear these things and I see and I just can't escape it I can't. I want to. I want to enjoy my fucking day, I want to live NOW, not THEN.

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