I'm drowning. I'm suffocating. I'm running out of space.
Now whenever I send the words out into the universe there is someone I know, someone who knows me, who reads them and interprets them. Sometimes things just need to be let out and let breathe.
Like me. I'm in a cramped room, though I am surrounded by the things I love they're burying me. That room is burying me alive. So is my job. I need to get out. And breathe.
