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Alisha Shibli Apr 2017
There is a feeling inside my heart that’s hard to explain
A hole, an empty void
Whose presence I feel strongly

Having nothing can hurt deeply
It’s a feeling that ******
And doesn't stop pricking

Where will you run?
To failure, guilt, and hurt?
The emptiness will follow like a shadow

Sometimes you'll use words to let it all out
Other times everything will go numb

But the feeling of emptiness stays
Silently screaming
Asking to be filled

You ask how
It says figure out
The cycle is exhausting
So you quietly close your eyes
Hoping to escape from it all for a while
After all tomorrow is another day
And the sun might shine
Alisha Shibli Apr 2017
Don't talk about your sadness,
They'll say you're an annoyance.
Don't talk about how terrified you are,
They'll say you're frustrating.
Don't talk about your struggles,
They'll tell you all about their triumphs.
Don't talk about what you're going through,
They won't understand.

Don't tell anyone anything.
Simply cause it's pointless.
Struggles of the dead are valued more than those who are alive.
Nobody wants to sit with you and hear your sad story.
They want you to toughen up and get over it.
And that's not what you want to hear.
So don't say anything to anyone.
Alisha Shibli Apr 2017
Need plumbing? Call a plumber.
Need an apartment? Call a broker.
Need career help? Call a consultant.
Need love? The number you’re trying to call does not exist.
Alisha Shibli Apr 2017
I'm tired of people telling me to stay patient
and get through it.

I'm tired of people asking me what is wrong with me.

I'm tired of people asking me what is it that I want.

I'm tired of people asking me how am I doing.

I'm tired of waking up.

I'm tired of surviving.

I'm tired.

The difference between you and me is my nightmares begin when I wake up.

My mind is fighting to end this suffering and my body is pushing to get through one more day.

I know I'm suppose to do a lot of things.

I know I'm suppose to write daily.

I know I'm suppose to read daily.

I know I'm suppose to be social.

I know I'm suppose to smile.

I know I'm suppose to be patient.

I know it all but I can't do it. I can't.
Why don't people understand that I just can't!

That I'm terrified of every living moment.

That I have panic and anxiety attacks.

And trying to get through those attacks while maintaining a decent demeanour consumes all my energy.

To be alone in this fight is difficult.

To die a bit every day is painful.

I can't tell you what is wrong with me.
I DON'T KNOW what is wrong with me!

I cry all day, everyday.

The screams inside me are deafening but my tears are silent.

I see the confidence with which you tell me I'm overreacting.
It saddens me that you can't see what I'm going through.

Things are not good and I don't have the sight to see them get better any time soon...

All I see is darkness.
All I want to do is sleep until it gets better.

My mind and body are at war with me and, this time, I think I'll just let them win.

— The End —