Tension.

You ever stretch a rubber band to see how tight you could get it before it snaps? Watch how it goes from completely slack to something you could walk across if you could shrink yourself down?I feel like I'm that rubber band. Tension. Tense.

The other night I dropped a glass bottle and watched it smash in slow motion on the driveway. The sound was music to my ears. I wanted to do it again. I needed to do it again. I wanted to fight. 

Fists. Beer bottles breaking over the sound of Touchtunes blasting whatever god awful music someone picked. Swing now. Ask questions never. This is my house. 

I have to be careful not to push myself. To be kind to myself. There's this fucked up part of my brain that keeps saying "Shut the fuck up p*ssy, go cry about it." Its what he used to say when I told him I didn't want to. I always had to.

I just want to relax. Without the breaking point.