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Sitting here I find myself empty. Wondering if anyone out there even knows I am here. Asking myself why? Why am I still here or rather why was I to begin with. Dark clouds roll in and I feel myself almost suffocating somewhere in all these thoughts.
Maybe I am not suppose to feel this way. Maybe there is no reason. But then again if there is not, why do I feel this way. Lost within somewhere, lost without everywhere. Afraid to allow anyone to know what is really going on. For to fall would not be okay, you got to pick up the pieces yourself. For there is no one else that can do it.
Within I am holding a secret pain, without nobody is looking. There is more than meets the eye. Sometimes it seems the whole world is upside down or maybe it is just me. Somewhere within there is me amongst all the turmoil, all the memories, all the hurt, and all the others.
For to look at me you cannot see, but if you really look, there is more than meets the eye. A silence no one hears says so much. A word can speak a million words. Maybe someone just listening is all she needs. Maybe.
Why is it that at times there seems to be no one, or maybe there is and we cannot see or hear them. Maybe we are just tired. Maybe it does not matter. Reaching out yet nothing is reaching back. Feeling so out of place in a world that keeps turning.
Seems there is nothing inside. Weak from fighting and so tired of feeling like this. Wondering if there is an end to all that grabs you from within and the feeling of rejection without. So many things left unsaid. Cannot seem to let it out. Why is that?
Why is it that we are so afraid to say help? Why is it so hard to just talk? You call a friend and your voice freezes and inside you are screaming words that never see air. And no one knows. And when you do speak, you feel as though you are doing the wrong thing so you shut back down and pull back inside, when you really want someone to just hold you and let you know it is okay.
Sometimes screaming within, “Don’t tell me you understand because you don’t know what it is like to be me.” Yet, hoping no one hears that for fear they would leave too. It is a never-ending thing. Stepping ever so lightly so not to upset anything and so no one will think you are not trying or that you are just being negative.
You keep hearing within the walls of memory, “Be a good girl, try a little harder, you are not good enough, to make anyone proud.” And because it is so present and real you seem to attach it to everyone’s expectations when it does not belong to them. Then, once again you cannot be good enough. And so goes another twist, another knot in the belt worn so long ago. And you try to take it off but it keeps getting tighter.
When someone looks at you, they cannot see how much it hurts. Tears do not come on the surface. But just because our eyes do not tear does not mean our heart does not cry. And just because we come off strong—does not mean there is nothing wrong. For being strong is what we were taught to allow everyone to see.
It was only behind closed doors in the darkness that the strength was allowed to lower, when no one was around, when no one knew. For it is in the dark that you cannot see what stares back at you. Screaming within is please love me, I hate myself. But you never tell that part of it.
Sometimes I want to paint myself and pretend I am someone else. Would that make everything go away even for a moment? There are so many within crying out, but even just me needs an answer sometimes. And even though no one sees, I am falling apart inside but still trying to be strong on the outside.
The night is dark, the silence surrounds me without, but within the storm is raging. But no one knows. And tomorrow is another day----one where these thoughts will subside for the moment and another mask will be worn so no one can see. Maybe.
dps and me
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