Are you listening? Can you hear my cries? If I scream in my mind can you still hear it? If my heart breaks do you still hear the noise? Or is it like a tree falling in the forest, does it even make a sound as it hits the ground. And you rush in a haste to get away from it.
Can you taste it? The saltiness of the tears that I’ve shed. The memories that leak from my eyes and roll down my cheeks. The bitter disappointment that fills the pit of your stomach, the sour taste left in your mouth being the only thing that you remember.
Can you smell the fear? Wafting off your body like a cheap perfume bought from a liquor store.
Can you feel the tremble beneath your feet, the motion making you stumble, as you catch yourself before you fall. Is that all? Can you feel the anxiety? The inability to describe how it came to be. The thumping of your heart, and you don’t realize the simple ease it takes to make you start. Can you feel the invisible hand grasping your lungs? Grasping and crushing until the breathlessness has won. Can you feel the muscles tense?
Do you see the emptiness in my eyes. The overflowing pain that leaks through my scars do you see it? Do you see the hunch in my back, the slump of my shoulders; I’m like Atlas, forced to carry the weight of the world behind closed doors. And as much as I want to shrug it off, I can’t. I’m not one to ask for help even if it’s tearing me apart. And it’s hard. It’s so hard to carry on, when I can’t help but worry on about how weak I may seem. Can you see it? The difference in me that is fighting to break free but instead it turns to flee at the sight of scary things. And oh God I try and I tried to fight back but all I find is destruction. Ruins littering my past, pounded by the bombs of relationships, blasted by the thoughts of reality. The war that’s raging on the inside; competing emotions and conflicting thoughts that leave me more confused than before. Can you see how troubled I am? Lost looking for the happiness that stood up and sprinted away. Do you see how I sway, back and forth between losing myself in the breeze and holding on for dear life through the storm. Do you see how I’ve been shaped and formed into the person I am today. Missing chunks and pieces but still holding the fragments together? Can you see the struggle between the angels on my shoulders? Between the hope that I matter and not wanting to get better? Can you see it?