This emptiness is killing me
carving me out like
A pumpkin right before Halloween.
Scraping my insides out
and throwing them away
without any regard
to how they felt
to what they meant
to who I was because of them
It feels like a part of me
was taken away
and I wish I knew how
or what I could do to
get them back. To
I try to gather my
thoughts and bundle them into
yet I consistently come up short
Something is missing
And I wish I knew what
Because that'd be easier, right?
The knowledge of why
is so much easier to fix
if you know what it is
that you're trying to replace.
But maybe I'm not missing anything
and it's all in my head
maybe, this is who I am
This is how I have to live
and this is what I will be
Maybe emptiness is eternal.
But maybe it's not really that bad
Maybe it's bearable
Maybe I'll survive
But God does it hurt
It feels like a pinball going off
Sometime emptiness comes from the lack of feeling...
But the worst of emptiness comes from feeling too much.
Wednesday, February 15, 2017
Tuesday, February 14, 2017
The pressure inside of my head is building up like sedimentary rock getting stronger as it pushes itself into the layer before it. Like the rock, my head is filled with many facets of pain that aren’t all visible on the surface.
On the outside, you have my smiling face, my enamoring giggle, my sad eyes that illuminate and draw people in.
On the inside you have the realities of the world. You have the beautiful nightmare, the corrupt swirls of something that looks beautiful, but has a hole in the center, a black hole, that sucks every last thing up into it.
On the outside you have my fuzzy exterior, my chubby cheeks, my thick body, my larger-than-life personality.
On the inside you would be able to see how I feel about all of that… That I hate it all. I love the comfort I provide others, but do I love myself?
On the outside you have my facade, of a perfect, happy life.
On the inside you have the effects of depression, presenting itself in the form of a tumor, growing ever so slightly, and every time we cut a little bit off, or we think it’s finally going away, it grows, stronger, bigger, more protruding into my everyday life. I cannot escape it, no matter how much I try.
But anymore, I cannot tell what is on the inside and what is on the outside, the two parts of my existence have begun to bleed into one, and I am fearful of what it could mean. I am afraid of what could happen to me. I am frightened.