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Everything feels like nothing, and nothing starts to feel like everything.

Everyday. Everyday as I wake up,

Nothing ever beats the feeling of inadequacy.

Inadequacy to do good
Inadequacy as a daughter
Inadequacy as a student
Inadequacy as a person
Inadequacy in feeling good within my own body
Inadequacy from feeling good about myself.

Everyday feels like an endless loop, you best believe my misery hunts me.

But what is inadequacy?

Is it scarcity? Deficiency? Insufficiency? A lack thereof?

Is it this mindless blob, formless and dark or a mangled form of flesh, eating away at you and your insecurities?

Like a virus, it pins you, goes deep inside you and there is never enough antibiotic for you...

This inadequacy keeps me up at ungodly hours where the sun howls and moon chirps, the clouds look at us, feigning interest, idly looking but never interacting.

This inadequacy lulls me in irregular fever dreams where comfort lies in solitude and loneliness,
where the people that surround you, cover their ears, bites their cheek, looks forwards, smiles faintly, but never tries to understanding.

My heart wails for the smallest of things. Nothing, nothing becomes everything.

My successes make me feel less, still. Everything, everything becomes nothing.

I am this inadequate thing, floating around, never seeming to be enough.

Inadequate. Because i could not protect myself from those who touch my skin like its free real estate, those clammy hands holding me in a state
A state of frenzy that never seems to end

Inadequate. That no matter what I do, my past will forever haunt me and define the being I am now that no matter how much I change, and try and try and try to do good, it will never be
enough.

And those same voices, those same people, they say they scream they tell me,
“You should have told me.”
“You should have fought back.”
“You are a waste of time.”
“You are dumb.”
“You are nothing.”
“You waste your talents for something as this,”

And those same people, let go of words
That back then would have meant nothing
But now it seems to be everything
It becomes my identity
It becomes my oxygen
It becomes the blood that circulates in my body
It becomes the endorphins in my brain

Nothing becomes everything. And everything that I’ve tried to change, worked hard to achieve, tried to mend, was sorry for, starts to become nothing.



But I am tired of feeling like nothing. That everything I do is always inadequate. That it is some form of scarcity, deficiency, insufficiency, a lack thereof.

These mindless blobs, or mangled forms of flesh,

Like a virus, it pins me, goes deep inside me and there is never enough antibiotic for me...

Because instead of listening, to understand, to empathize, they listen so they can jeopardize...
Whatever love is left that I could give to myself,
Without a shred of doubt,
In a warm, bright embrace for myself, in a corner slouched.



So, I ask these voices, who are only here to remind how inadequate I am:
How do I fight back?
How do I be good enough?
How do I become less dumb?
How do I make nothing stay as nothing? And appreciate everything as everything?

Because day by day, this inadequacy I feel, gets really tiring.
• December 13, 2019 | 12 PM

This was my audition piece for a competition I auditioned for that unfortunately did not push through because of the pandemic. In my journey with poetry, I want to continue to hone my form and create something that is true to me but also mirrors the lives of others and that we may be able to share a sense of empathy for one another's struggles.
EmVidar Aug 2020
Each time I end up here
your words ring in my head
"only the insane, keep doing things the same"
however,
you never said anything about what happens
if heart break comes
from different pains.

-em vidar
MC Escano May 2018
Many days without a muse, whatever shall I do?
Too long away from heart and sans a point of view
The sunrise has been glorious as the sunset strikes me numb.
Not mourning our final screams into censorship
And strike a chord that gives a voice to verses now in me.

I close my eyes and see much more than sight can ever see.
Colors swirl behind my lids and rainbows, vividly.
Butterflies, a ship of clouds glides by
Howling in the wilderness breaking through the sky
Hanging like a scimitar suspended in the sky,
As mind is far more visual into an endless four walls still sight.

Whispering blues, the height within
A troublesome mind, trampling songs from afar
Struggling to breathe, I lie waiting not to.
Thoughts are embedded tightly in a jar
To endless voices mock me; crush, break me
But I refuse to listen a strength rises
Something I wouldn't have believed
And now I was ready to fight those dementia.
I knew I wasn't alone.

If I could love the limping ugly afraid part of me
That I drag through the mud and thorns
If I could let the transparent clawing, screaming silhouette speak
Instead of kicking it into the utmost peak
If I could put my deepest human essence onto paper for everyone to see

Then.
Then, let these new visions be free.
I don't know what I make. and I know that I'm a bad writer with these scrambled thoughts. Forgive me. :(
Tanya Louise Apr 2018
burning, i'll burn
in no rush to leave
with edge of the world on my finger tips
yes, i will breathe
not running in speed
sleepless abandon
the words seem to speak
they heal
the waste in them
and the fate in them
Breeze-Mist Dec 2017
CN
Thanks, animators
For showing the beauty in
The apocalypse
Inspired by this: (https://i.pinimg.com/736x/50/26/bd/5026bd84e7300b237bcb37004b724ae9--crystal-gems-cartoon-network.jpg)
Faera Jan 2017
She
Nightmare (noun;
no longer the monster under the bed
)

She wonders when exactly they'd left the dwelling of her bedroom walls, haunting her every step as she forces a multitude of expressions on her face to distract others from the shadows pooling beneath her easy smile.

Boiling (verb;
emotion beyond comprehension
)

She watches the water bubble beneath the surface with panic; she isn't sure when the last time her fingertips had felt warmer than negative degrees anymore.

Beautiful (adjective;
just another lie
)

She stares, fascinated, at the skin that grows tauter on her face each day, the hollows beneath her cheeks, the ribs splayed against her bare torso, the unsteady waver in her eyes, and she wonders if she should find them disgusting—she doesn't think she does.

Violently (adverb;
unhealthy
)

She covers her ears as someone screams at the sight of her and she grips even tighter when she realizes the sound is coming from herself.

Suffocation (noun;
to die or to be killed)


She forces death down her throat as her future veers toward the only path she never wanted and the only choice left to her now.

Grating (verb;
the sound of nails on chalkboards
)

She wakes to a knock on her door and blood beneath fingers that tremble as she turns the **** to peek around at the landlady telling her she'd gotten another complaint of the scraping sounds coming from her room at midnight.

Silent (adjective;
                                        )

She's learned to do things quietly now so she doesn't disturb her neighbors or her colleagues or her family; she isn't sure why they aren't bothered by her demons, though.

Endlessly (adverb;
again and again and again and againandagainandagainandagain
)

She can barely count nowadays how many times she's thought of and tried and came so very close before (oh, but she could if she tried; each attempt is very memorable, of course), and she rubs her hands raw on the coarse rope over and over again—maybe, just maybe, this time she'll do it.

Maybe this time she'll take the easy way out after all.
I'd like to clear up that I'm not suicidal, not anymore. I just felt like writing something that points out that maybe, to some people, death might be the lesser evil after all.
Lin Oct 2016
Hey there,
In this tiring yet beautiful night,
I just want to share my 1 A.M. thoughts.

Dear you,
I fell in love for who you are today
But fell deeper,
For what you've been all this time,
I like spending time alone,
But with you,
Time has become more precious,
I used to wait for rainny days,
But with you,
Every moments become my favourite,
I like all of your bright side
But your darkest side,
Haunt me to know you more.
You're not a whole box of happiness
Cause you are not a box of chocolate,
You're a box of salty caramels.
You're a whole package of bitter, sweet, salty, and sour.
You made my life complete,
Cause you are, you.

Thankyou, you
Lin Sep 2016
I wish you were right here,
Right now,
With me,
Together we pass this fcking tiring day,
Cause everywhere i go,
I saw your shadows,
Everytime i turn around,
I caught your glimpse,
Every sound i heard,
It resembled yours,
I always imagine how you would solve all of these,
I wonder how you would speak,
How you would act,
How you would smile this pain away,
But i know, i really know,
I can't ask for more,
Cause I'm nobody.
And still,
I'll be waiting for you with a strong heart,
Til' we meet again
:)
I hope so
IndiGo Dec 2015
growing up I never knew that the only color visible to me would be blue.
How can there be colors if we're all blue? The harsh realities of life, stress and anxiety creates that hue.
Although my mind is in a cluster,
I cant help but to wonder,
why did I rush to become this ?The thoughts I had of my life were past lavish.
Blue is the only color I see
As if my thoughts are the sea. I try to drown my fears & anxiety , but they can swim & no one told me. Why did I try to do such a thing? Now all they do is haunt me & bring me pain and romp & disturb my soul.
For God's sake I'm too young to be feeling this old. Take me back to the glory days, I miss how things used to be. Back in the days when I had a family. And by my side-
grammy.
Take me back to the glory days when only innocent thoughts would rave -
in my mind. Those were the glory times.
How did I become to this state when all I see is blue ?
I know I wear glasses, but tell me do I need new eyes too?
Trivial times, I'm facing head - head. "Nothing matters , yet everything matters." I said. My feelings, anxiety and stress ahead cant **** me if i'm already dead.
I want to change my perspective. I want to see other hues. I wish I had someone that could change my life from this blue.
tbc... // (g.m)
Nely Apr 2015
I'll make it so difficult for you to love once again. May you fare well after my heartache, forever my dearest deepest love. May you farewell.
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