Laughter

I'm afraid of laughing.
I'm afraid of opening my mouth too wide, letting out too much sound, allowing those bubbly rolling giggles out into the world so they caress others and spread a little bit of smile. I'm afraid that as soon as I start to laugh, as soon as it's okay for me to be smiling and grinning and feeling all this happiness, the worst possible thing will happen and all my laughter will be taken away.

I have so many smiles inside me. So much I want to share with the world. So much I'd love to say, to share, to give to others. But I can't. I keep my lips pressed tightly together in a thin line and I keep my eyes focused on the tiled floor below me and I keep my head bent down so no one can actually see me. No one can see me trying to see them, and it's good that way, it's nice, but it makes me all so very lonely.

I'm afraid of loving people. I'm afraid of sharing my heart with them, of letting it beat in their hands and pulsing energy into their body. Because as soon as you put that trust in someone else, they hold you captive. They can kill you, eat you alive, or torture you. They can keep you living just so you can watch them destroy you bit by bit and they'll keep you living after that just so you can stay in that realm of pain.

I am not a people person. I am not someone to talk to or someone to hug. My hands don't hold anyone else's but my own. It isn't how it works. I am a lonely girl and no matter what I do, it won't change.

I live in a self-made existence that isn't truly real but isn't truly fake. I'm half in your world, half in mine. I'll stay this way forever.