found via tumblr
It's always when the quiet is the loudest that I get scared the most. The fear approaches me like birds. Birds - I always hear the birds before I see them. Their wings flap like sheets of paper whipping against each other, and the noise grows louder, freakishly louder, until I'm pretty convinced that the birds are here to eat me. They're vultures in my mind. They're chasing me in vicious circles - cycles - until I drop down dead. "I don't want to go," my voice is mildly pathetic and I fold my hands over my face. I'm scared of the birds. I hear them before I can see them. They warn me I'm already dead.
