Words should feel easy right?
Something to communicate
Something to understand each other
Something to avoid misunderstandings
Something to explain thoughts and feelings
But it doesn't
It just doesn't...
Words feel like a puzzle you can't solve
Your mind is a mess which you can't explain
Everyone says "It's okey take your time"
They don't get it...
They don't ******* get it!
You don't need "more time"
The words just don't ******* match what your mind does and thinks
Words are a ******* Puzzle everyone seems to have solved just not you
A puzzle with broken pieces
A puzzle with missing pieces
A puzzle with not matching pieces
A just unsolvable ******* puzzle.

I don't know.
I don't know what to write what to say how to say it how to be.
I have ideas.
I have people I could talk to about it.
I have it but I can't use it.
I could but that means opening up...
Opening up about something deep inside of me...
Opening up about my biggest burden...
Opening up about something hurtful...
Opening up about something I kept hidden...
Opening up about something buried deep...
Opening up about something I pushed down...
Opening up about something I ignored for years...
So I can't do it.

I want to get better
I need to get better
I will get better
I will get help
I will do anything
I just want to be happy.
~
I have help
I am working on myself
I am making progress
I am happier
I am getting better.
~
****, I am getting worse again.
I made progress... but now I am back to ****.
This is all useless.
Why? I thought I was getting better...
I hate it!
~
It's slowly getting better again.
I just need patience.
It's hard, but it's working.
It's like a dance...
Two steps forward, one step back, two steps forward, one step back... and so on...
The eternal dance of healing.

I don't care.
I tell myself that.
I don't care.
I tell everyone that.
But the truth is...I care...even if I try not to.
I care even if I act cold.
I care even if I act tough.
I care even if I act like I don't.
I can't stop caring.
I feel deep.
I act like I don't.

Ears ringing, like after a concert.
Each sound, each voice, each tapping, each clicking...
Just—too much noise.
Too much...
Too ******* much!

Eyes burning like flames.
Too bright, too white, too dark, too...
Many colors blending together, creating a mess.
Too much...
Too ******* much!

Skin irritated, like a hundred bee stings.
Clothes rubbing, skin itching, scratching—makes it worse.
Each sensation, like a shock through the whole body.
Too much...
TOO ******* MUCH!

Head full, racing thoughts, faster than light.
Too loud, too full, too much.
Then drifting away—far gone. No thoughts, just silence.
Nothing...
Nothing...
Nothing...

Snap back. Waves crash on—everything at once.
The cycle continues, again and again and again...
Over and over and over...
No end in sight.

When did we stop wanting to become a firefighter
When did we stop wanting to become a police man
When did we stop wanting to be someone great

When did we stop dreaming
When did we stop fighting
When did we start settling with the easy option
When did we stop ...
When did we stop ...
When did we stop living

I am not me, but I am not them.
I am not good, but I am not bad.
I am not strong, but I am not weak.
I am not everything, but I am not nothing.
I am not smart, but I am not dumb.
I am not a girl, but I am not a boy.
I am not shy, but I am not brave.
I am not normal, but I am not weird.
I am not fine, but I am not broken.

I want to know who I am, but I don't.
So I'll ask you. You tell me I am something in between, but you don't know what.
I can research everything, but not who I am.
You tell me, "I will figure it out," but I don't know how.
I have one question, it is always there.

Maybe I am too naive or immature.
Maybe I am too young.
Maybe I'll never find an answer to it, but maybe I will.

So... who am I?