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Rated: 18+ · Poetry · Adult · #2185239
Mostly, a scratch on the surface of thoughts that run through my head.[77]
The world often has a peculiar way of aligning for you.
There are times when everything fits, when everything makes sense.
And there are those when the universe reminds you that it is under no obligation to make sense to you.
Without exception.
Be bound by no illusion my friend.
With every passing day, people are burning out.

It’s rather exhaustive isn’t it?
Playing the versions of yourself to suit the expectations of those who surround you.
In reality, life doesn’t even require us to be the best –
just to do our best.

Honesty is open to interpretation.
Honesty is also proven to be extremely difficult.
I’m not a liar, nor am I ever undoubtedly truthful.
I have this sort of default setting whereby I am only genuine with someone to the point that I think they can handle.
There is nothing remotely fair about that.
And I’m working on it.

My dream is to fall in love with myself again.
I wish to explore every minute aspect of my mental capacity.
I will myself to rise from these ashes every goddamn day.
I will myself to lessen breaking myself down & hushing my gut up.
I need to commit.
To adopt a habit of being at least decent with myself.

To an outsider, I might appear to have all my ducks in a row however,
I would be doing well if I could just get those little fuckers into the same fucking pond.
It’s kind of funny, that in twenty eight years of being on Earth – I’ve become a professional hideaway.
I have perfected the art of shielding my world from the intensity of my true self.
Again, that is not for me to decide.
And I’m working on it.

I find calm in the strangest of places.
In the most casual of things.
The unmistakable strum of a base guitar,
The sound of the wind as it hurls itself through the trees.
I want to ensure minimal conflict; I’m eager to please

All the while, a storm brews inside my chest.
Breathing positivity every second of every day is unachievable;
All encompassing & conventionally boring.
Ever listen to the voices inside when they scream?
They’re habitually right.
I’ve spent to many hours attempting to give everyone something I cannot give myself;
And that’s bullshit.

Here I lay, bleeding feels from every blue line interconnected to this hopeless lump in my chest.
In some unfamiliar way, everything that I had ever dreamed of suddenly wasn’t enough anymore.
Dumbfounded, I just need the world to quieten a while.
To let it rain & be enlightened
To discover what is good for my soul.

Ever danced with your shadows?
Ever noticed that even in the darkest of dark – flames don’t have shadows.
And like every one of them I can feel myself gradually burning out.
Chiefly stemming from my lack of willingness to show you how truly broken I am.

Everything is falling to pieces around me & yet, here I am -
More me than I have ever been.
Deliberately giving others permission to put me back together;
Piece by precious piece.
I drove myself to the world’s end.
I sat there, crossed legged on a rock.
I let it hurt.

I just breathed.
I listened to the waves as they roared –
Hoping they would come wash my broken bits away.
They didn’t.
They just crashed & crept closer – close enough to hear the whisper of a broken girl.

I rested.
I rested there so long that they threatened to take all of me.
They caught me off-guard.
I was surrounded; drowning in the madness of my steadily declining mental health.
I must admit, part of me wanted to stay.
Desperate to erode into something new, but the surf wasn’t going to provide that for me.

Only I held the power.
Only I alone.
I took an acute forward step.
A shy step toward solid ground.
Vulnerable like a small child.
Frightened of where this journey may lead; but then he took my hand.

Delicate, like sand particles routinely inhaled by a passing vortex.
Suspended entirely,
And forever enmeshed with me.
My first love; The Sea.
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