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Thursday, 21 September 2017

Public Spaces part two

It doesn't matter that no one reads me.
Because you do.

It doesn't matter no one understands me.
Because you do.

Somehow,
This way works for us.

Our words are measured.
We give news.
Take news.
Let the other know:
We're doing ok.

If public spaces is the way to go,
Then so be it.

Anxiety sucks.

I sit here,
on the verge of an anxiety attack,
of proportions I've never known.

Panic flutters inside of me,
as my poised fingers shake.

I need help. I can't get through this alone. 

But I must.
I have no one to blame.
It was my choice.
I wanted to pry myself out of
my comfort zone.
Fling myself out in the open.
With no safety net.
Can't afford one.
Because I might back down.

But they depend on me.
Look up at me.
Expect I have all the answers.
But I don't.

Oh, gods, I don't.

I want to forget about this whole mess.
I want to go home.
I want to curl up with them.
And stay in the comfort of my world.
The familiarity of it.

I can't.
I must try.
Because when asked,
Why do you want to live,
I answered,
There's so much out there to discover!
And there is my answer.

There's so much out there to discover.







When someone dies.

When someone dies, someone you truly love,
your heart breaks.
It rips, scatters into millions of tiny pieces.
Fragments, memories, of who that person was to you.

The pieces spread about, still contained inside your rib cage,
fluttering,
unsure how to go on.

Then time passes, and the lonely pieces find their way back.
They huddle together.
Stitches keep them in place.
And they've worked so hard to come together,
that they don't realise
parts are missing.
They only remember,
only see,
the good.

They no longer wish to hold memories of
Harsh words.
Hurt feelings.
Broken emotions.
Heartbreak.

Those memories are still there, though.
Hidden beneath the stitches.
The stitches that bind them together.






Public Spaces part two

It doesn't matter that no one reads me. Because you do. It doesn't matter no one understands me. Because you do. Somehow, This ...