runaway

because i try and explain all that i am and there really are no words for what i feel, this nostalgic, uncomfortable uneasiness that starts in my abdomen when i am laying in my bed and my body shakes as if the world is turning in an erratic rotation and because there are no words i have to make them up but they sound more like whimpers than anything, a whiny pathetic sound. i can act what i feel, but who really understands? i want to be understood more than anything, to not be alone, to not have to face this alone. to be comforted, to be assured that nothing ugly happens, everything will end up in happiness and whatever things that are deemed as good. has there ever been? has anyone ever wanted to die, at that last possible second before they do?