I'm well!

With your hands stuck in the sand, I have yet to be released from your grip of psychotic mess. Disillusioned senses craving attention and I'm sure you strive on ever word i say. I'm not talking about chemicals or pills-I'm talking about eyes being blurred from coats of lies even you believe to be true. Health, please get back to her.

I've forgotten how to write without thinking and i miss the freedom of every word and movement in each finger. My eyes never seemed to be so peeled with focus to the screen and instead i would lose thought of where i kept them. The reason why I'm so quiet-i never want to give the impression of stupidity, just like EACH AND EVERY ONE of you have. I realize how angry my words can be, but almost everything purifies this emotion.

 Don't forget the good things...

Eyes having affairs with things that are not yours; i write in secrets, what can i say... aloud?