swing.

eerie when you can't remember the last time you felt safe. when things remained stable long enough for you to take a breath and look beyond surviving the day. imagine it must be nice, having happy days segue into happy weeks, not waiting for the bottom to fall out beneath you.

sometimes the most basic of needs are the hardest to fill. cracks turn into caverns; drops to puddles, to lakes, to oceans. these things creep up on you, the anxiety, the fear. the sadness that makes laughter hurt because you have farther to fall when moods and tensions lighten. there were days, not as distant as they should be, when the fear made life into a heads or tails game. things were black and white. you either wanted happiness or death.

and it was a relief.

to see things so plainly. shutting of the compulsion to analyze diamonds until they became dust.