154 – Sometimes you forget who you are.

It’s easy to get lost in a crowded space, when you feel that there isn’t any room for the things that you love and the things that you care about. You listen in to the murmurs around you, trying to get a sense of what’s going on, trying to find a way into the conversation. No worthy thoughts come into your mind. And who would want to hear your unworthy ones? You never thought of your self esteem as something fragile until you entered this space. Now you fear that one mistake might be all that it takes. You smile, laugh, and latch upon some sense of acceptability. But this won’t be enough. You know this.

And so you walk between the lines, searching for something that you didn’t even know you were looking for. You pretend to have found it, and exclaim a false sense of epiphany. But it’s like the others can see right through you and no one pays you any mind. You become quiet, hoping by some contradictory possibility that you are more visible when you don’t speak at all. Of course, it doesn’t work. Why should it?

You feel ashamed for wanting something more. Be thankful for what you have, you whisper under your breath. After all, it could always be worse. This is so minuscule of a problem that it’s barely a problem at all. Yet you remain fixated on this urge, this craving to be heard. You know so very well that this isn’t the right path for you to go down. You don’t have to find your place in this crowd. Because this probably isn’t where you belong.

You belong here. This is your space. I promise you things will be okay. Here, you are free. Here, no thoughts are unworthy of being said. Everything matters. Or doesn’t have to. You have the right to choose. You can stay for as long as you want. Until you find out what it was you were looking for. Until you want to leave again. Here is safety. Here is comfort. Here is exactly what you needed.

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Convolution

For all those who wander are not lost.


For a long time

I’ve waited

to feel freedom

from beyond this fathomless trench

I spent years digging myself into.

 

But even as I walk down this golden path

I feel the tension beneath my feet

with every step

the shadows loom closer

taking delight in the consumption

of light hearts and gaiety.

 

it’s almost as if

someone has painted an ebony black

over the rainbow I had prized

as my most guarded dream

clearly

there is no such thing

as security.

 

Still I must not crumble

underneath this continuous weathering

the promise of better days

is not that far away

from beyond this blasted hurricane

I believe that clearer skies will light the way

towards a life that’s truly worth living.

62

A new city, a new life.

I feel like I’ve left a part of me behind with the rainy coast of my past.

I’m not sure if I’ve stopped writing because I haven’t had the time to or if it is due to the lack of inspiration in this far too urban environment. I hope it is the latter.

But I am happy. In the essence. Even with the constant fluctuation of my emotions, I can feel the difference in myself. I am happy independent. I am free in every sense – well, almost.

My mind is blank. It seems like the only moments in which I have much to say is when I’m highly emotional and usually in the miserable sense.

Someday. Someday. Someday. My goals seem so far.

But I’ll make it there.

And I hope I don’t stop doing this somewhere along the way.

Writing isn’t just my past. It’s my present. And something deep inside my heart is urging it on.

Find yourself, Nessa. Find yourself.

But it’s hard because I don’t even know if I’m lost in the first place.

Am I?

fire and ice

I’m left with the pieces

of a mask

I used to wear

not knowing

if I could bear

stitching it back together

 

Perhaps instead

I will throw

the fragments

let it go

for the wind

to carry away

 

But I’ve long forgotten

the face behind

the mask

my identity

my task

in the cold corners

of this darkness

 

I feel

a heavy weight

upon my soul

a frosted arrow

takes its toll

penetrating

my heart

 

As I search

to find myself

my fears converge

and all I know

in the frozen scourge

is that I love you

for the warmth you bring

when all is skew

52

I saw this image, or poem rather, on Tumblr and I thought how perfectly this describes and summarizes the thoughts running inside my head at this moment.

I need to get away from you for a while…and you won’t like it. I won’t like it either.

It’s ruining me. This happiness. This sadness. This loneliness.

I’m scared also that you’ll find someone to replace me if I disappear for a while, but I think I’m going to have to take the risk.

I can’t deal with my thoughts and feelings being toyed like this. Unintentionally, of course.

It hurts me that you’re oblivious to it all.

It hurts me because it’s not your fault at all – I’m not exactly normal.

I just want to be normal.

I just want to be myself again.

I’m sorry.

But I’m not sorry.

I’m just a little lost.

Time will heal me.

Vigilante

We all fall apart sometimes.

Wrapped in our own worries,

Away from the world.

 

We all lose our way

In the darkness,

But there will always be light.

I promise.

 

You haven’t lost all your friends.

I’ll stand by your side.

If you’ll let me.

 

If you feel like you’re torn apart,

Just hold on tight.

I have the puzzle memorized

And I’ll piece you back together again.

 

We all fall apart sometimes,

But you don’t have to do this alone.

I’ll see you through.

‘Cause I love you.

What are we?

I’m tired of the sugar-coating, tired of the lies,

I can see the resentment haunting in your eyes.

I don’t know when I lost you in the snow storm of our past,

But day after day, the layers piled on –

too cold, too thick, too fast.

 

I once called you my best friend, but as time wore us down,

I’ve come to finally realize that you’ve never been around.

I thought that as the sands trickled down the glass –

that you would never change

that we would stay the same,

But you’re no longer the person that I knew, the soul behind your name.

 

Yet you still stand by my side as if you know me well at all,

Yet you still expect my hand steadying your fall,

Yet you dare to judge me as if you’ve loved me all along,

But your words are spitfire of all that’s false and wrong.

 

Who are you? And what are we?

I’m hurt, but I still believe it mindlessly

That somehow, someway, somewhere soon,

We’ll be laughing together in the afternoon.