I miss you.

I sat down to write something to you but something else came out instead.  So, this is my second attempt at getting all this stuff out of me that I can't keep inside.  It takes up all the spaces that are vacant inside me, like hot lava flowing from a volcano and pooling in all the cracks on the ground.  That's what the stuff inside me feels like and then I have to get it out.  Sometimes I cry to release it.  Sometimes I'm angry and I yell.  Sometimes I write to you here.  I have pages and pages of unpublished words that I just float out into the nether.  They hang around out there or around here but at least they're not in here any longer.  I never know how much time I'll have before the hot lava stuff starts pooling up again.

It always starts pooling up again.

 

It's the bad-gunky.  And this is my blood-bool.

 

Maybe I should rename my blog "STEPHANIE'S BLOOD-BOOL."  

It has a nice ring to it.