Nov 2013
If it were easier to be proud,
I might be.
But positivity doesn't often
ring in me.
I have shined for so many years,
making proclamations of my thoughts and fears,
relentlessly opening my heart,
my doors,
my mind.
Only to be crushed a dozen times.
And maybe it is beautiful that I keep trying.
But it doesn't feel that way on the
inside.
It is like
harboring a monster in me,
and hoping one day someone could
love it.
I can smile in so many ******* directions and it has
never
fixed the beast.
And it eats and feasts on
feelings.
I believe my neurons and nerve endings,
and my seratonin and dopamine,
have all been over-
compensating.
For fear of losing it all to this
thing
in me.
It's been there since I was about
13,
and I thought it had stopped
growing.
Long dormant,
but now returning from
submission.
Moving from feelings and making bigger decisions.
I fear he is now eating
me.
Some sickness from the inside out,
beginning with my sense of doubt.
And lack of fulfillment
and stupid ambitions.
And all of the things I have tried to keep hidden.
He is tearing holes in the very foundation
of this ******* facade I've been constantly faking
for something like 5 years
now.
All my best kept secrets are leaking through the cracks,
leaving people feeling like they're
sorry they asked.
He will go for my bones, and then my skin,
after devouring the flesh within
until there's
nothing
left of me.
I have been piles before.
Crumbled, bumbling,
cautiously fumbling for
doors or
floors
or lightswitches.
Chased into beds with sheets
far less than neat,
he's been following me for
some time now.
And I keep thinking I can write him out.
But the feeling never sticks around.
And the words will cease to make me proud.
It comes back.
Like clockwork.
Year after year,
cold after cold,
he is there.
Somewhere in me.
Eating steadily, slowly.
Savoring the taste of my suffering.
Depleting my positivity,
and filling it with other things.
And what I have been wondering
is if I can somehow make it leave
and allow what's left of me to breathe,
one day will it be easy
to be
proud?
I might be.
But positivity doesn't often
ring in me.
I have shined for so many years,
making proclamations of my thoughts and fears,
relentlessly opening my heart,
my doors,
my mind.
Only to be crushed a dozen times.
And maybe it is beautiful that I keep trying.
But it doesn't feel that way on the
inside.
It is like
harboring a monster in me,
and hoping one day someone could
love it.
I can smile in so many ******* directions and it has
never
fixed the beast.
And it eats and feasts on
feelings.
I believe my neurons and nerve endings,
and my seratonin and dopamine,
have all been over-
compensating.
For fear of losing it all to this
thing
in me.
It's been there since I was about
13,
and I thought it had stopped
growing.
Long dormant,
but now returning from
submission.
Moving from feelings and making bigger decisions.
I fear he is now eating
me.
Some sickness from the inside out,
beginning with my sense of doubt.
And lack of fulfillment
and stupid ambitions.
And all of the things I have tried to keep hidden.
He is tearing holes in the very foundation
of this ******* facade I've been constantly faking
for something like 5 years
now.
All my best kept secrets are leaking through the cracks,
leaving people feeling like they're
sorry they asked.
He will go for my bones, and then my skin,
after devouring the flesh within
until there's
nothing
left of me.
I have been piles before.
Crumbled, bumbling,
cautiously fumbling for
doors or
floors
or lightswitches.
Chased into beds with sheets
far less than neat,
he's been following me for
some time now.
And I keep thinking I can write him out.
But the feeling never sticks around.
And the words will cease to make me proud.
It comes back.
Like clockwork.
Year after year,
cold after cold,
he is there.
Somewhere in me.
Eating steadily, slowly.
Savoring the taste of my suffering.
Depleting my positivity,
and filling it with other things.
And what I have been wondering
is if I can somehow make it leave
and allow what's left of me to breathe,
one day will it be easy
to be
proud?
