Feelings, I have so many of them,
They can't escape me.
My chest holds them.
They fight at the bones to break free.
A jumbled up mess is what I would call them
Tangled in a knot so tight that I can't unpick it
Where do they stem from?
So many feelings.
To pin them down is difficult, even though I may hold them in.
They hide deep down
But some tighten, pulling at me.
Tugging me towards anger.
I take it out on the people around me.
I shouldn't, but I do.
It's most definitely not their fault.
Those I love hide at the rage build behind my walls.
Those I love get a glimpse of how I treat myself
The words that play on repeat in my head, only ever told to me.
But the stomping of feet,
The harsh words.
That is what shows.
Unfair.
I know.
But how do I fix these feelings?
As I write this it feels I am not reflecting but deflecting.
Marking as someone elses knot.
Their fault
But it is my own
My own tangle
My own rage.
I vent and I vent but nothing inside changes.
The feeling is still there, the one I felt a year ago maybe two
So much has changed but my feelings still the same.
Still beating at my chest.
Nothing but the tangle tied painfully still as the world keeps turning.
As it should.
As I should.
But I don't.
Because I lay there at night wishing someone would hold me, wanting it.
Wanting me.
"No one wants you" is what whispers in my head.
Is what I started telling myself two years ago
I didn't realise how much it would take ahold of me.
Tying my knot tighter.
I like to think that I hold myself to a high standard but I don't.
Maybe that's why the ****** people stick to me like glue.
Because I don't think I am good enough.
And if you drill it in enough,
The boot starts to fit.
The ****** people stay long enough to make you feel like ****, suprise, surprise.
And get It's crazy to think this all started with feelings
Overthinking
I learnt to expect the worse.
So when things stayed the same
Maybe they weren't so bad
I could live, live with my mum and pretend nothing was wrong
But everything was.
I wasn't living but surviving.
Every piece of string was wrong.
Because the things that happened are wrong.
It conditioned me,
I'm still in fight or flight mode.
It made my mechanism go straight to the worse, thinking,
"No one wants you"
"You are not wanted here, out of place"
"They are just allowing your presence because they are too nice to send you away"
I changed, before the age of finding myself.
I didn't change for he better.
And it all comes back to feelings.
Tangled, twisted into a knot of victimisation and pity
Because that's the only way people listen. Truly.