I am loved, aren't I? This is all real, right?
I keep wondering and wondering in silence,
Praying for an answer that will satisfy my uneasy heart,
Curling my knees to my chest just to ease the pain.
Why are my emotions so rampant?
Why is my anxiety crippling my ability to feel happiness once again?
My gut tells me this fairytale of mine is nothing but temporary,
And that I should just accept it.
Why is every fiber of my being rejecting you,
When you're the only person to come this close to me
Not just physically, but to every aspect of who I am?
Am I so damaged that all the cracks are showing through?
The ones I hid behind the facade of my perfect persona.
The bandages I applied can no longer hold me together.
Should I listen to the voices in my head?
Or will you save me from this damnation,
Formed by a limbo of bitter events I was forced to endure?
Yet the thought rises: Why am I asking you to save me?
Am I not used to saying, "I can save myself, I can handle this on my own, don't worry, I'm fine,"
Flashing a smile as I tape up my own wounds?
Maybe I am worthy of love.
It's just that, right now,
I am too broken by other people, and my own expectations
To function the way I should.
My dream was a wake-up call.
It was you, shouting at me, telling me you'd had enough.
I think, from that moment, I accepted reality.
I grew so used to people treating me unkindly that it became my trauma
A familiar dark place where I strangely find comfort.
It's twisted, I know.
But I don't think I have enough sanity left to endure one more disappointment.
Apr 20
Apr 20, 2026 at 8:14 AM UTC
I am loved, aren't I? This is all real, right?
I keep wondering and wondering in silence,
Praying for an answer that will satisfy my uneasy heart,
Curling my knees to my chest just to ease the pain.
Why are my emotions so rampant?
Why is my anxiety crippling my ability to feel happiness once again?
My gut tells me this fairytale of mine is nothing but temporary,
And that I should just accept it.
Why is every fiber of my being rejecting you,
When you're the only person to come this close to me
Not just physically, but to every aspect of who I am?
Am I so damaged that all the cracks are showing through?
The ones I hid behind the facade of my perfect persona.
The bandages I applied can no longer hold me together.
Should I listen to the voices in my head?
Or will you save me from this damnation,
Formed by a limbo of bitter events I was forced to endure?
Yet the thought rises: Why am I asking you to save me?
Am I not used to saying, "I can save myself, I can handle this on my own, don't worry, I'm fine,"
Flashing a smile as I tape up my own wounds?
Maybe I am worthy of love.
It's just that, right now,
I am too broken by other people, and my own expectations
To function the way I should.
My dream was a wake-up call.
It was you, shouting at me, telling me you'd had enough.
I think, from that moment, I accepted reality.
I grew so used to people treating me unkindly that it became my trauma
A familiar dark place where I strangely find comfort.
It's twisted, I know.
But I don't think I have enough sanity left to endure one more disappointment.
