saint valentine

I am awake now. This is like opening your eyes for the first time in a long time. It's like stepping on glass, you are aware and cautious. Everybody likes to be happy. Except her. Being unhappy works. You stop being fragile because you need to stop being broken. She doesn't want to talk about it. She just wants to keep going.
She doesn't want to make friends, she doesn't want to love or trust. She wants to think and she wants to learn. She wants to destroy herself and build back from scratch. Happiness is fleeting, joy is fickle. Despair is solid.

Don't worry about me, I'll find my way back down.
I don't want to talk about it.



photo credit - viktor vauthier