I will always be scared. I cannot say that I have always been nervous Although Now I know This is just how I am. I have nobody. It would be wrong to say Someone would care, If I destroyed myself again with my thoughts I am just a worthless wreck Nobody can convince me that I am a warrior.
Needless to say, this past year has been insane, but my current English teacher has challenged me to start writing poetry again, so I hope you enjoy my debut of 2021! (Don't forget to read it backwards!)
How many times have I quietly sobbed today? Finally letting my walls down as I let myself know I am alone.
The room is filled with heavy gasps of air, only for my ears to hear. No, these aren't your regular inhales and exhales.
They come with little sobs and whimpers that changes your breathing, They come with sharp pains in your chest as if you're drowning, They come with little pools of water that has the capacity to carry an immense weight of sadness.
Defying the Laws of Physics, wetting your face that never seems to stay dry with each little drop.
All at once, You feel as they come at you. Like a firework had just been lit, prepared for what's to come on the 4th of July.
Suddenly, all these that surges from you stops. Your ears ***** on slow yet heavy thumping sounds . . . ! footsteps
You get up, and the fireworks in your chest fall at once to your hollow stomach. Making a crashing noise of empty cans on shards of previously broken glass.
You wipe your tears and stare back, as your reflection in the mirror smiles at you.
a fleeting moment of hate and disappointment pass through your mind
Inhale. . . .
. . . .Exhale
"it's sharp and it stings... ...it's tight and all very familiar"
A new task has begun as soon as you end one, and just as quick a routine ends and night awakens.... The same routine awaits to greet you,
once the Sun wakes the world.
title inspired by Kate Chopin's "The Story of an Hour". give it a read if you haven't :))
! TW !: I feel like people with anxiety might find the last line triggering
My turn to go up next. The teacher glances toward me and nods. I grab my instrument and walk to the front of the room. A chair and stand awaits me. I set the sheet music on the stand and take a seat. "Whenever you're ready," he says.
I lift the french horn to my face and pause. I remember the people before me who went, eyes full of fear. Hoping with every ounce of their soul that they won't mess up. My chest constricts tightly. I struggle to take a breath, then begin.
The first note is perfectly on pitch. So far, so good. The phrase flows smoothly. The piece goes well, until I take a risky glance around the classroom.
A knot forms in my stomach. Everyone is looking at ME. Expecting ME to do well. My fingers fumble as I miss a note. I panic and rush the rhythms, not caring if I miss the pitch. I just want this TORTURE to be over.
Their gazes are icy. The piece ends and I swiftly let my instrument down. I hang my head low. The ones before me look grim. Surely I had disappointed them
The director says nothing. The silence is KILLING me. I feel my face flushing red. The room is getting warmer. "Next?" He asks, prying that I should take my spot. I get up and take my things, then do exactly that.
The next person plays perfectly. I applaud with tear-stained hands. They are praised well as they walk to their seat, beaming in glory.
Who am I to pretend that I understand this madness called success?
.........A bag of stones as my heart. Water lillies as eyes, A glass vase as my body. I couldn't think with this thunder storm of a mind and I couldn't speak when my heart is racing, running out
of time. Blurred is my vision, heavy, are my thoughts. My heart filled with the heaviness of fear and nightmares. I don't know what to do. I don't want to enter into the dark lairs of death I am afraid, fearful, hurt And lost. I hope you God would help me through this storm...........................
I’ve always been consumed with a sadness and heaviness i could never rid myself of I wrote constantly. I knew what heartache felt like and yet nothing could have prepared me for this. I have not yet lost you. You’re still here, you still love me. But for how long? My mind keeps running back to that sadness to that emptiness and i ask, “how much longer do i have?” I’ve taken up tarot cards, runes and pendulums and i ask them all the time. I ask them how things are really going. I ask them if you still love me or if you’re only pretending. “How much longer do i have?” Why? I want to be prepared. I want to know you’re leaving before even you do. I want to grieve before it happens so it doesn’t **** me. I feel the anxiety burning in my chest already.
I find myself daydreaming about a future where I’m in a lonely little apartment late at night and I can feel your arms around me. However, when I roll over to face you there’s no one there and I remember that you’re with someone else and you’re happier with her.
I don’t want that to be real.
I don’t want you to leave.
So I try to hope for the best but I want to prepare for the worst. Please tell me how long I have. Please tell me before it ends.