sometimes there's an ache in my chest. sometimes it spreads its tentacles until it has pierced through all my shields and I feel it everywhere, I feel too much. a small part of it seeps out in tears, most remains. usually this ache is all-consuming and doing even the bare minimum is a mountain of struggle. it fists my chest until I can't see, think, move past it. I hate these days the most.
but sometimes on these days, you talk to me. the noise quiets down. the fist loses its grip. I no longer feel like ripping my heart out.
but, it's just the quiet before the storm.
you see, your presence in my life is uncertain. you came at your own accord, and you'll leave just like that. I've given up trying to root you in my homeland. if you just give me fleeting visits of peace, I'll take the fleeting visits.
and that's the entire problem.
when you come, you quiet the noise. when you leave (which you do, which you will: slowly and then permanently) you leave a storm behind.
I'm not strong enough to leave you before you cause the storm. just as I'm not strong enough to fight the storm. I gave you the key to my lock and that's the problem. I'm not strong enough and that's the problem. I'm a disappointment to the woman who gave me birth.
so I cradle the storm, weep in it, until you bring your quiet with you.
and then you leave. and then it begins again.
I'm sick of it. I'm sick of myself.
YOU ARE READING
Words Unsaid
PoetryA collection of my poems about love, crushes, depression, feeling lonely and pretty much all the emotions I go through as an angsty teenager :P Hope you enjoy! I've been adding to this book since I was 15 (I'm 21 now). The poems get better as the b...
