What Scares Me
At times I've shouted out unprovoked with anger in hopes to be heard. Yet, my vocal cords are no longer a part of me. It scares me and has me questioning everyone around me. Leaving the question, will I be heard when I need help?
Are we all acting and fighting to keep our heads up but forgetting where our heart is? I tend to think this is an act to hide the emotional cues from a script that isn't mine. A script that I don't want to read anymore. The words within the writing filled with skeletons I have buried away.
Taking our life only leaves us questioning more. With a world stacked against us, it doesn't mean we are falling behind. It means we are living. As souls living in a human experience, we are running out of time; we lose seconds on living life. Yet, bad days are the main drivers of our sadness and sickness that drowns us from the inside out.
I can feel the heartache carried by those who are effect from such destruction. I use to think destruction was routine and part of life. Till I learned to hold destruction in my heart, packing it away from everyone and anyone to see. Slowly burning the pages of a script that no longer consumes me.
Maybe I feel too much, perhaps I feel nothing, and it is an act. These feelings make me question what I love and lust for within this world. Plastered in the blood of those who have taken their lives. Leaving me question, have we forgotten the best moments of life framed deep within our hearts?
Burying your nails in your heart provides comfort in moments that feel will never end. By clinching to such force we gain ability to push our hearts outward or inward. Regaining a part of our humanity to fight back and live life against a time that isn't real.
Yet, am I thinking about it way too much and leaving it closer to me than I want it to be. Learning how to respond than react to such sickness that has consumed more people in my life than I am proud to say. I want to believe that this life will get better. I want to know if this is all the love I got or more to be found.
The truth was sorrow is all I wrote into that script. For the longest time, I wouldn't face it. But then, I found this script is mine, and I can write about anything I want. Ridding myself of the sickness that consumes everyone around me.
