I apologize because if stress was toxic, I would be poison. If straight girls loved me and demons didn’t haunt my dreams, maybe I’d be ok. Chardonnay and bud light could not chase me with my parents’ words. Watch the world drown in to the beat of two lovers’ heart anything but facing the cruel reality of the hurricanes life strangles me with. I wish it was as easy as reading the last page of a novel but im the writer of this story. Ideas keep me up at night, chapters seem never ending. 365 pages per chapter and 366 pages every other, other, other chapter. A little more time and maybe I could figure this all out. Turn off the lights, turn on the starlight, blare some Panic At the Disco song so loud my ears bleed and let me breathe in unspoken apologies. All that silence makes a peaceful death, but a loud funeral. Hell rises above me and I breathe in its flames. You learn to be so sad that happiness is foreign. Happiness feels so good it subdues you and then you get punched in the face. Everyone is wearing aviators in London but im in drowning in rain boots in Paris. If only apologies were life vests. Maybe then I could swim away from all this.