Chaos

The screams do not stop. The pain is continuous. The aching is there. I long for peace, but My heart and mind long for chaos. If I am not my mind and I am not my heart, then what am I? I have no answer. I have no response. I must be what I think and what I want, I must be myself.

I cannot think about this for too long.

When I address this turbulence, when I think deeply, I think about falling into chaos. I think about dying.

Is there peace is death? Does the chaos exist there?

Will I destroy myself there? will I cry? Will I feel alone there? Will I cease?

When I stop, the chaos does to. If I cease, the chaos will follow, it has come along everywhere else.

The chaos looks familiar. after I shave I see it. When I pass by cars I see it. When I think I see it. When I talk I hear it. When sleep I feel it.

I am the chaos. Where is my peace?

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