what is it?

is it the fact that i lost my voice? forgive me and put up with me. walking in the grass i don't know what exists anymore. lets have a fist fight, and see who crumbles under pressure first. there's a flaw on your face, but i'm not saying a word. i can't hear your beautiful voice over this blasting guitar, but my bracelet broke in half while you were nearly screaming. my eyes closed shut, and i'm tied up in this red chair with mr. stink stickers all over it. i have crayons jammed down my throat, but i'm not gagging. it feels good to have color within me. they're inching down my esophogus, like a worm. inch my inch, and meter by meter. they're inside me. and they're never coming back out. they're in there forever. they're stuck to all the gum i swallowed over the years, they're stuck to all the paint i peeled off my fingernails once. the purple, the blue, and the orange all alined. this plastic wrapper sounding noise frightens me over the phone, can you tell i'm crying? can you tell my eye liner is running down my cheeks? and can you tell i'm choking on every word that escapes my lying mouth. i'm tripping over my phrases, and jumping over every single word you say. it's the biggest obstacle i've ever had to handle. i don't know what words mean to me anymore. i say them three or more times, and they automatically lose their meaning as quick as they run through my trail of memories in my pink, mushy, twisted brain. this cut on my cheek has been rusted over with all the saying and words you've been shouting. the band aid fell down the drain, and so did my choker. it slithered like a snake that day i took a shower. there's a marker chasing me, and its cherry, blood, red. do you know what this means? because well, i can only scream so much.