Blood-letting Emotions

  You're numb. Blood drowning in quiet and apathetic ennui as it goes pumping through your veins, bringing with it a dull thump thumping of your heart. I am. I am. I am.

  You're here. But you're the only one who sees you. Others push you aside with their glances, misunderstanding. Or, even worse, not knowing that you're devastated. Not knowing that their careless words, dropped so heedlessly to the ground, were picked up by you and examined, turned over carefully and placed so close to your heart. 

  You're gone. You've flown from this situation, your wounded soul rushing out the door, scurrying quickly, leaving behind a hurried -- "Good riddance." Your body is still here though, so you adjust the counterfeit smile on your face but there's no smile behind your eyes. Because the soul is long gone, and there's nothing to shine out of your eye-holes anymore. 

  You're happy. Because you have to be. Because that's your reputation. Because if you're not, people might start to question why, and you don't have the time or the energy to explain because it just hurts to answer. And it's just all such a tangled mess -- like christmas lights that wrap around themselves in storage and are impossible to unravel. Although your heart is slightly more fragilely frail then christmas lights. 

  You're cutting through. The knife on your skin, slicing. Figuratively. 

  You're blood-letting. But not truly, for you don't release crimson drops of life. You release emotions. What trickles down your arm is jealously and humiliation and despair and regret and pain and the memories that you thought you had let go of but still hide out in your wishes and desires. 

  You're letting it all go. What sweet release. The emotions flow from your veins. 

  You're free.