Fully empty

If I had to turn my life into a book, it would be a short story with lots of empty pages and tears; do I have a reason to cry? or is it just me not feeling anything yet feeling everything all at once?

If i had to turn my life into a book, I would write your name in every page or even have you be my title, but this piece is mostly about me.

If i had to turn my life into a book I would mention the surreal sensation of love, self love to be exact. It wont be much, maybe I will have to write a sequel ? Or even a separate weekly journal of me learning?

If I had to turn my life into a book, my scars would be the villain and my tears would be the heroine.

If i had to turn my life into a book, i would include the good and bad, the suffocation I feel and freedom I want. The countless unexplainable panic attacks and break downs; the ones where i cry my soul out until i feel numb and lifeless, empty if i might say.

If I had to turn my life into a book, I would write about my books; my favorite ones and how I would love to rant about them with someone special and my peculiar love for socks, colorful ones, the ones that makes people question whether im a fully grown woman or a nine year old child.

If I had to turn my life into a book it wont be much but definitely long enough for me to lose my sanity.

If I had to turn my life into a book, it wont be published not for the fear of being exposed but for the fear of not being understood, but if you’re ready to dig in, well buckle up you’ll need the safety measures.