Sadness

Avoiding the silence

I can longer get through the nights without your touch in my mind. I’m getting lost in the beats of every song cycling through my headset, every beat reminding me of your heart. Every slow beat pumping my body, keeping my life afloat. From night to night, I find new songs to spiral through on repeat. I never find myself reaching the end, knowing that the dead silence that sinks in after lights out will pull me deeper into the ocean.

Decaying thoughts

A puzzled mess broken down on the first night, followed by the shattered glass beneath my bare toes. I keep replaying the points in time where those tiny, shameful thoughts developed. These frustrations terribly difficult to express directly without a hint of fear. These fearful questions emptying out my mind, forcing my everything to slowly deteriorate back into the shadows.

Relating Illnesses

You are not the storm you make out to be, the crack between sanity and reality. I understand the jumble of words inside that corrupted mind of yours as it tries so hard to complete the picture. Your words shouted out without thought, hoping to discover the illness of your days. Let me tell you that it will be okay, that every mystery comes down to the depression chipping away at your shoulder, devouring every last piece of self esteem. But do not fear as this crippling feeling deep inside you will perish over time. Take this from me, an impaired person refusing to let death inside every appointment I walk into. I have taken so long to acknowledge the painful reality that depression cannot be cured by a simple pill over night. It takes countless nights of staring at empty ceilings, corrupted thoughts at train stations, and numbed out screams for help. The road out may not be an easy one, but it is a pathway we must take.

Missed notes

I know I was only a whisper,

mixed with the sounds of the wind.

But I was hoping you’d hear my voice,

as yours was the only voice I listened to.

I’m sorry if you read these too late,

but know that it’s okay.

I’ll be gone by the time you no longer feel it,

the soft emptiness irritating you,

an emptiness you’re not quiet sure why.

I’m hoping you’d see these notes in time,

in case you can stop me before I leave.

But I know deep down,

that you’ll only romanticise them,

thinking they were only abstract,

meant for no one.

Before I go,

know that I wanted to leave three little words,

words too difficult to say without fear.

So I leave this,

encryptions in notes that may never reach you.

My unforgivable mistakes

Leave me here, twisted in my own guilt. Let me stay in the quietness of my worries. Love me from a far enough distance that I can no longer see. Lose every care or worry you once held close to yourself as I will no longer be here.

Make me suffer in the unforgiving silence of my regrets. Mumble every word that you are too shy to say clearly because I need the hard truth. Make up with all the old friends you lost because of me as I am no longer around.

Never forgive me for the scars I left on your heart because they will be always be felt. Nullify every emotion you once felt towards them as I no longer deserve them. No matter what happens, never forget my mistakes.

 

Note: Just a play on words as a way to try something new!

You no longer exist

You know me well enough to find the combination of letters to shatter me. You know the precise few seconds it takes before my heart pauses with emptiness. You laugh at the broken soul in front of you as you lose yourself in your own mischief. You can’t help but feel good about the wounds you inflict upon me, covering up the reasons behind them as revenge. You know deep down that you’ve gone beyond your own lies because this is no longer interpreted as revenge. No, this is the petty nature you’ve moulded into, or maybe it’s just who you’ve always been. For the longest time, I blamed myself, I thought that every infliction was understandable.

This pain you once took part in developed into my own growth. I grew up deteriorating every fibre of who I am supposed to be. I know this sounds like I am trying to lift this regret, this guilt of destroying my grades, my motivation, even my will to live. I know it sounds like I am trying to blame you for every shit corner of my life but I’m not that petty. I  know I have done wrong, I know I have caused pain upon myself and others. Yes, to some degree, it can trace down to your actions. But you no longer exist, you no longer have power over this grand scale of life. This is me moving through the acknowledgements of myself, allowing myself to get back on the right pathway of growth. You won’t ever read this because I will never let you discover the person I am becoming.

Confusing pathways

You were right, I spend my life waiting. I spend my life waiting for the right moment, the day the broken pieces pick themselves up. I’m just terrified, you know? What if that day comes, what if the broken pieces come together and all I find is emptiness. Think about it, every piece of me, every shatter came from the beauties in my life. What if I grow up and discover that the adventurous side of me is no longer there, or the fire I once had inside me is long gone. If you want me to be honest, I have no idea what’s supposed to happen.

I’m split between many trails of thoughts. What if I spend too much of my time in the past, and not moving on and learning from mistakes? What if I spend too much of my time in the present, allowing for a difficult and unprepared for future? What if I spend too much of my time worried about the future, to the point where I lose everything in the now? What if I prepare too much for my future that when I do eventually reach the end of my goals, I’m left feeling empty? I’m struggling to find the perfect balance in life, and I’d do anything to find it.

The clingy past

You are the gateway between the past and what is important, the realm between excruciating pain and happiness. You are the unforgettable scar stretched across every inch of my body that’s never going to let the past go. You are the old brick holding open the deteriorating door of a shed full of rusty tools I have no use for.

Do not get me wrong, you are an angel in the flesh. You are the yellow overhanging lamp in the quiet street at night, the white dove in a murder of crows. But I can’t help but see the cracks slowly appearing through as every conversation crosses through. I can’t help but feel broken with parts of me still breaking off. I thought I could handle this, I thought I could move on from every dent of my past, but you’re still there with your finger unintentionally pressing down on my bruises.

The support I hope to give

Do you really want to know me? I’m nothing but an empty barrel of poor diets and terrible sleeping patterns. I am the person who belongs nowhere with the delusions of someone who believes they can be anyone. I am the instant texter because of the paranoia that fills my mind because I cannot help but believe that I am not deserving of such relationships in my life. I am the dark bedroom filled with a blinding computer screen and the stench of chips. I am a lost hope walking blindly through last minute assignments and tests I never studied for. My room is constantly reshaped due to the illusion of a different space meaning a better version of myself. I am the emptiness behind the stolen jokes and the overused humour.

But I will tell you this; despite every flawed characteristic I have, I stand by everyone I meet. I will always be the one to lost sleep because of a friend desperately in need of support. I am a huge believer in the importance of closeness and vulnerability in every relationship. I try to become close with everyone I meet, not for my own selfish validation of “selfless” kindness, but for the sole purpose of learning. In my time, I have created friendships with people of all areas, from depressed artists to passionate future doctors. I have seen the true beauty in their voices as they gain that momentum of confidence, that tiny spark blasting into wildfires as they become vulnerable to me. For the longest time, I’ve never been sure of what I want to be

For the longest time, I have never been sure of what I want to be, whether it’s an IT specialist or an artist of some sort. But the more reflection made upon my past, upon the relationships developed over the years, an idea has risen. I want to help people in the best possible way I can. Yes, I know I have much to work on to become such an impact, but it will all be worth it.