hundreds of sharp needles poking the bottom of your foot, you can't stand, your body feels weak from not eating for a while, your throat is dry and begging for cold water to wash down all the worries and fears. but, your stomach fights against it. you don't want to eat, even though at some point it rumbles, hurts and makes your eyesight go blurry and fuzzy. but, when you put something in your mouth, it refuses to chew and swallow. your lips and mouth are as dry as the nomadic desert but still refuse to have a drop of water. your eyes are dried up, tired of crying all day and night, it does not look alive anymore. your face looks pale and swollen, but when you are in a social, you need to smile and pretend everything is just fine.
every thought and voice keeping you up all night, muffled screams and sobs — the ambiance is eerily quiet, so you don't even have the liberty to cry out loud because you don't want to "worry" your parents neither you want to share anything with them, they say it's just a "phase" or title it as a mood swing. but, if only they could talk to your walls and your pillows — they wouldn't have the courage to look at you. your chest hurts, it's dry, empty, and you're wheezing already, and to make it worse you have to bury your face deep inside the pillows and let the tears flow into it. until the covers are soaked and, they can't take it anymore.
finally, the head is disturbed physically, and it starts to throb now, all the three ganged up together. the mind, the heart, and the stomach. each fighting for different goals. mind for peace, heart for love, and stomach for food. the body ganged up with them at last, and it craves human contact. it craves touches from a certain individual, to embrace and say it's going to be fine even if it's a lie.
This is the war, I've been fighting for a long time now, I need to bring myself back from this torment but, then a few days later, the war will begin once again and, I need to bring peace to them all. I wonder how long can I be the peacemaker... one day, I'm afraid I can't pull myself and my sanity back, and if the war is to begin once more
will I be able to make it out alive?
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Desolate Nights | Poetry ➳
Poetry- completed {Wattpad's featured poetry} ❝ 𝙇𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙞𝙨 𝙨𝙤 𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙤𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙨𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙝𝙤𝙣𝙚𝙮, 𝙛𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙞𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙨 ❞ ̶̶̶̶ ̶ «̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶̶ ̶«̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ❥ ̶»̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶̶ ̶»̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶ • a collection of pro...
