It’s happened again.
My stomach rots as images paint my mind of dark colours that make my head ache.
A vast array of blue and purple bruises colour my thoughts as I become paranoid with this lack of control.
I want to know more than I do.
It’s the feeling of vulnerability that has hurt me too many times before.
And what makes this different? I wonder. I cannot say. So I over think.
Suddenly images cloud my mind until they paralyze me to consider them as truth.
They gnaw at my mind until there’s an ache that will never move until someone says something to clear the fog.
But no one ever does. So I spend my days thinking.
And repeat this vicious haze.