I hate tests, they make me anxious as the blood in my veins start to freeze and the oxygen which consumes my lungs starts to hide as my anxiety dances through my mind. I’m not really been good at much other than writing and missing others, I guess that’s my speciality. I tend to push away those I lose the most and isolate myself like the iron within my blood isolated itself, no wonder I can’t breathe, no wonder I can’t breathe. The hairs on my hand start to stand as I freeze, there’s no cold breeze but I feel a chill within my spine, my spine, the thing that holds me so strong it’s starting to shake and shiver, my weaknesses come to the surface of my skin and it screams for the blade, they scream to be free. And then I frantically panic as my mind thinks a thousand thoughts and suddenly I’m overthinking every situation as if this is my last, as though my breath will evade me and the blood will continue to flow but it’ll flow out of the scars in my arms and not to my heart where it aches the most, where the arteries hide in shyness of sorrow and my heart skips another beat. Just like it did when we touched, and now my hands are cold, empty yet free, free to type away all this misery.