fading like a wilted flower - mixed up, jumbled, confused.
i trick myself into thinking i have nothing to say, that this book is empty because of a void in my mind, a void in my so-called creativity. it's hard to imagine my life without words, meaningful words, so this absence has made me fearful. fearful of a lot of things: of myself, of my life, of this journal. i cannot live this life in fear, as i've only started to learn. fear gets us know where. there's nothing to fear but fear itself. i guess maybe i thought if i avoided talking about things, they would go away. my thoughts will wash down the drain with my daily shower, they will lie out on the sidewalk when i take out the garbage. today i did laundry and felt cleansed , and not just because my clothes were clean. i felt like finally i could say things again, or at least start to learn how. again. this is why i could never be a writer. it takes vacation at the most inopportune times, i have no control over it.
i'm stuck at a place where i can't tell if i'm happy or sad, they are battling it out for a place on the podium of my brain. neither one even comes close to winning so i'm stuck in this confusion. things make me smile, things make me laugh. but there are also things that make me cry so hard my body shakes, things that make my entire body hurt with fear and loss. i don't know how to get to a place between the two, even a state of contentment might make the days pass easier. it's getting cold, the wind chills my bones and it is so damn persistent. some days i feel like a shadow of myself, a ghostly figure walking to and from class, listening but not really absorbing anything. the nights are my enemy, i cannot sleep and not even his voice can pacify me. there moments of false slumber, my body sweating and twisted, the sheets just do not feel right against my skin. the scent of his cologne on my tee shirt puts me at ease, but still sleep does not befriend me. sleep is angry and bitter, it's sole mission is to make me upset and afraid. so we avoid each other, much like the plague. which one of us is the plague though? can we ever really tell.
i don't know how to make anything i'm feeling make sense to anyone else, no doubt this has left a look of confusion on everyone's face. but there, there it is. do i flatter myself even that much to assume people read this? but no, no, i digress. i still don't feel as if i belong, although i'm hoping with time that will change. if only i could hold a mirror up and see myself the way others do, perhaps that might make this process easier.
really, all i want is his arms to hold me in these sleepless nights.
i'm stuck at a place where i can't tell if i'm happy or sad, they are battling it out for a place on the podium of my brain. neither one even comes close to winning so i'm stuck in this confusion. things make me smile, things make me laugh. but there are also things that make me cry so hard my body shakes, things that make my entire body hurt with fear and loss. i don't know how to get to a place between the two, even a state of contentment might make the days pass easier. it's getting cold, the wind chills my bones and it is so damn persistent. some days i feel like a shadow of myself, a ghostly figure walking to and from class, listening but not really absorbing anything. the nights are my enemy, i cannot sleep and not even his voice can pacify me. there moments of false slumber, my body sweating and twisted, the sheets just do not feel right against my skin. the scent of his cologne on my tee shirt puts me at ease, but still sleep does not befriend me. sleep is angry and bitter, it's sole mission is to make me upset and afraid. so we avoid each other, much like the plague. which one of us is the plague though? can we ever really tell.
i don't know how to make anything i'm feeling make sense to anyone else, no doubt this has left a look of confusion on everyone's face. but there, there it is. do i flatter myself even that much to assume people read this? but no, no, i digress. i still don't feel as if i belong, although i'm hoping with time that will change. if only i could hold a mirror up and see myself the way others do, perhaps that might make this process easier.
really, all i want is his arms to hold me in these sleepless nights.