My ship isn't pretty.

A tangled path winds it's way through the dark.
Plumes of warm, soft sadness flooding my lungs.
I take out my headphones to hear the rustle of the leaves in the wind.
Hypnotic. So beautiful it hurts.
I scoop myself up. Wishing I didn't have to stop. I would keep walking.
I wish I could just keep walking...
These dark days still exist.
In me, there is still the capacity for such immense...loneliness.
Is it not inevitable, I suppose.
Cutting myself off, closing myself down.
When I need people they are not there.
A self governing body.
All I want is to be able to fall down, and have someone else pick me up.
The funny thing is, it is only me who denies that very thing.

"I do not fall"... Nobody sees me fall. Only my words exist.

Across a dark field, a fox follows my shadow.
Tiny mangy creature, a little like me...
Then all of a sudden he disappears,
as if he were some illusion amongst my fumbling thoughts.
If it weren't for my camera...I would question his existence.
Almost as much as I question my own.

I look up to the stars where they hang, so full of calm.
Trying to absorb some of their stillness.

But everything shakes.
Everything trembles.

I disappear into the night.