I feel the dire need to say help. I can’t truly articulate the words and show how hard it is for me to just breathe. My hands keep shaking and my mind keeps turning, yet slowly I feel like I’m going slightly mad. Words fumble past my lips but just are hidden by the smile I’ve plastered on. I know you can tell that I’m sad, so please reach out to me. Everything that has happened these few days scare me so much, that I’m uncertain how things will tumble. I climb so far up, and close in on the sky. Just live life so that I can go on and continue to achieve my dreams and goals. I feel like I’ve been robbed. Like some parts of my life have been stolen from me and I can’t imagine keeping strong. To just be there and like a doll attached with strings. That people can pull me about without my consent, that without command I’ll do as they please. Somehow; I just have to.
The best people in my life, the ones who will hold me and let my cry, let my tears stain their shirt and tell me to stay strong. That I can overcome everything and have done so much to be proud of. That what my parents say doesn’t matter. Only as long as I am happy, that’s the only thing that matters. They say that they love me and are so proud of what I have accomplished, that everything I do is grand. That everyday I look beautiful and I’m a magnificent person. Every achievement only makes them so much prouder of me. That regardless of what happens this summer, no matter what the future may bring, that I will forever be loved and never forgotten. My greatest fear is to be forgotten. Otherwise what else is there? Death only makes me afraid, because I don’t really understand how I’ve impacted the people in my life, that somehow I think I could still be forgotten. That’s why I feel that nothing I do is good enough. I might get some praise but what’s that? One day of memory for what I’ve done, and then I’m forgotten.
Being torn apart, the seams coming undone, and people with needle and thread try to stitch me up. There always one doctor that can make me feel better but it’s just not worth the time to find that doctor again. The cuts tear at me, but I just try to not fight. To not be any trouble and perhaps in time hide within myself. That finding the world is not right, to just let the world find me.
The shadows haunt my eerie imagination, but there the smallest glimmer. It may be me losing what consciousness I have, or just plain delusions, but I see the knight. I know that he never really was, that he can’t improve my stations that threw me into this anguish, but his comfort is something that I can dream with. That lulling that can calm me, even now when I have lost most of my hope. It’s so much worse when you make your friends cry, because they cry over you. I don’t want them to cry, because all they try to make me do is smile. But those are never real anymore.
Home is where the heart is. But my heart has been missing, and still unfound. It may have never existed, but so many are sure that it has. The words pour out of me, but are only ideas in case. I don’t have any hollowness but this seems to be the only way to express the nightmares.
Ever been boxed in? A claustrophobic would shutter at the idea, but being inside that small box isn’t so bad. How can you think outside of the box when they won’t let you out? Isn’t it always when you’re outside you want to be in? Wouldn’t it be that same for the stupid box?