I think I’m a ticking timebomb, every day that goes by my anger grows and grows, never diffusing.
Theres no one else to be angry at but myself. As weak as an eggshell, breaking at the slightest impact. If i were a color i would be scarlet, filled with rage and a roaring fury that only gets worst when spoken to.
My body is as tight as a coil, springing up in defense at every little thing. impatient and tired of the apparitions that keep moving through the walls of its brain. I want them to leave but i get lonely without them keeping me company.
I ask them to hold my head up, their transparent hands gently cradle me. rocking me into an absent lull. They bring me down but lift me up and i can’t live without their memory, They make me into who i am.
i ask them to hand me the ladder whenever i get stuck at the bottom of the pit. I should’ve learned my lesson, sometimes they pull it up instead of lowering it down. They make me keep grasping for more light.
I ask them to eat dinner with me occasionally, i tell them i want to hear their voices again. i leave out extra placemats for them incase they ever decide to join me. I’m left hoping and staring at empty seats, reminded that they will never come back. They make me stomach food again.
I ask them if it hurt when they left. if they feel my tears whenever i cry. i am met with wide stares and carefree smiles. left to wonder what they found that makes them happy. they make me feel again.
I ask them to love me despite what disasters i make for myself. i don’t have to hear their voices anymore to know that they do.