And yes, I am Someone.
By default, I have a few names, Like: Someone Is Knocking At The Door, Someone will do that, or Old People Need Someone To Talk To. But really I’m just Someone Else.
Who is Someone?
there were no feelings to rid—
it wasn't love to begin with.
They say we are like beasts in the night;
Senseless and wild. Menacing fangs, ready to devour the world. In truth, we are like wolves; Untamed with teeth to rip apart all who dares threaten our packs. With furs to cuddle the biting cold away, sharp ears and eyes to pick up on the first signs of danger. In truth, we are like cats; Finding our home back from the streets, Or simply knowing how to get away from the hand that feeds nothing but pain. In truth, we are like rats; Blamed for a disease we do not have, Deemed filthy and wretched by all who refuse know us. In truth, we are like crows; Beloved by the outcasts, Flock together into groups, loyal with a love that can bring gods down. In truth, we are like mint; Impossible to get rid of, no matter how many of us you pluck out of this earth. Persistent and all the more lovely for it. You say we are like seeds planted in pots; Destined to settle down the way the gardeners dictated, all other possible futures disregarded. In truth, we are like the moon; the phases are nothing but your refusal to see as us a whole.
"It's ok, I feel sad too sometimes."
But not like this. "You're faking it." I'm only telling the truth. "I know how you feel." Not on my level "Stop being so lazy!" Lazy ≠ exhausting "Get over it, and stop feeling sorry for yourself." I can't get over a mental illness. "It's not that bad if you aren't cutting yourself" Self harming isn't always cuts. "Don't give your life away!" Actually, good idea, what do I have to lose?
I have had depression for a long period of time. These things have been said to me. Even though I kept silent, this is what I would really like to tell them back.
I wish that I could meet the me inside your head
I don't think I'd like the things that she says I wish I could erase the stencil of me you traced Free your mind to see a different shape I would deconstruct the shadow that has taken my place And help you see the real me that has somehow been replaced Paint a new and clearer picture, however long it takes I want to stay until you see her, however high the stakes
This ****** organism
Flowing with Lyricism Endowed with Witticism Maybe lacking in rhythm... But not in favouritism Look under the skin Why the schism What is the division Needless criticism Wait... did I just become the villain?
Is there ever any need for judgemental comparison?
You were wrong about me.
I am no halcyon, no summer song, but a wilted rose you picked with its sharp thorns. I wasn't a catch. I am a fire hydrant's glass. Something constantly left shattered when it all goes up in smoke.
Day 29 Prompt: Catch
if i think of you
does it mean that you’re thinking of me or is my innocence pure ignorance and denial of the truth