Mixed sensation building up from the inside, never letting it out and trying so hard to hide the sign of weakness coming from within. Stone face, ungrateful tone that I don’t mean.
I’m catching up to my core who’s miles ahead but everyone perceives that I’m hostile instead. Terrified to cause a scene but wanting to be seen. Afraid to be too loud but wanting someone to listen.
I have rambled words and feelings inside of me. Instead, I let out an odd side of how it’s ought to be. It’s all in my head thinking how I made such a mess of myself that I became a machine, and emotionless.
The scars from the past are still covered up with plasters, and time didn’t do its job to heal the wound from the disasters that I had hoped would disappear but it’s a chip on my shoulders I can’t brush off, and its claws cling. Stitches are open and the pain lingers.
I was always the first one in line, for a prize I didn’t even need to try Now, I’m suddenly left behind. I’m back in the corner of a room trying to keep my head down and rushing to get out soon, watching the hands of the clock slowly turn to the time I can leave it feels like years, I feel so stuck. I often go back to these moments, the glory days of my care free life, the memories and what it all meant at the time, it was everything to me. Now, I’m sitting back in this chair thinking maybe this is all I’ll ever be.
When I go to the cemetery I see all these tombstones with names written on them and also written on them are these two dates that seem so important and these two dates represent the day of their birth and the day of their death but in the middle of it is this dash that represents their whole life living it. This line represents their whole existence and looking at it makes me wonder of all the more important dates and stories hidden inside of that line. Like, their first date, first kiss, first heartbreak. In that one short straight line between the day of their birth and the day of their death was their life that I imagined they had fully lived.
I wrote a bunch of poetry back in 2017, it was all over the place. So, I finally retrieved it from my old broken laptop and some were from my old journal pages that I may have forgotten about.
It starts off lying in bed and letting out a big sigh like you just had an exhausting day then your eyes start to fixate on your ceiling like your whole life is written on it and you’re trying to read it but the words are scrambled. You’re trying to solve it and you realize that your eyes are glued to the ceiling or the ceiling is just getting closer to you, that’s the moment you realized that the ceiling collapsed and fallen on top of you, and while you’re also falling into this big black hole at the same time– you’re unable to move. You’re falling with tons of bricks on you, waiting for someone to either catch you or get the rocks off of you. But until then you just keep on falling and falling with no ground to fall onto.