Inhabitation

This disastrous inhabitation 

Urging to not go back to crawling under the blankets; fists clenched, short breathed, wishing the world could end in a second, so I’d be free.

There is nothing more horrendous than this disastrous inhabitation of my own inside my own self — I feel as though a giant alien would split myself in two and get out of my system. Heart pounding. 

I don’t want to have to deal with it anymore. It is like a death sentence. A curse. I wonder and wonder before I sleep why is it — and what is it, that prevents me from enjoying this journey. What is it that makes my body so uneasy all the time like I am inhabiting the wrong world. Some day some how, I shall find the answer — unless the uneasiness ceases first, then I shall smile at a flower again and be grateful. 

I crave the simplicity.