Handle With Care?

I’m scared, I’m scared and I’m confused and I don’t know what to do. I don’t know who we are anymore, I don’t know who I am anymore. My bruised knuckles feel foreign and so does the faint beat in my chest that rises to a crescendo at times, I’m losing my touch with reality again. The days drag on and they intertwine with nights like two lovers on a Saturday morning, impossible to tell apart. The thunder feels too loud to my fragile ears, and sunshine too bright to my eyes; the only thing constant in all this is the peace rain brings.

A lulling,

torturing,

unattainable peace,

because the chaos inside is too wild to be contained.

Oh, if only you could feel what I do, you’d treat me with a lot more care, my dear.

Please.

Please don’t let me fight all my demons,

Alone,

And please do not try to fight all your demons,

Alone,

Because neither of us is strong enough to

Survive the fight,

I swear I can’t take anymore

Sleepless nights.

Can’t you see, I’m already

Falling apart?

Only a day without you and

It’s breaking my heart.

A Bad Day.

A bad day

Turns into a few

And it’s a bad week

Before you realize,

Now its three bad weeks

In a row;

A bad month

Succeeded by brethren,

12 of them,

A bad year now

And you feel so helpless,

Wondering every moment,

If you’ll ever feel the sun again

Or the peace you felt

Every time the sky lit up mauve,

Sliced by lightning;

The detachment is getting

Too much to bear,

The quiet is

Too eerie now,

Oh how you long

For noise of some kind

Even if it were

Your own strangled screams.

 

 

 

Life.

They say 13 is
An unlucky number,
But if I could be one age forever,
I’d choose to be 13,
Because I was 13,
When the world spun on my fingers,
I was 13,
When my biggest trouble was an annoying brother,
I was 13,
When I couldn’t spend enough time laughing,
I was 13,
When everything was fine.

But then I was 14,
And saw the world topple,
I was 14,
When I learnt how it felt ,
To be uprooted,
I was 14,
When I started quietening down.

And then I was 15
And I was scared
Unable to make
Sense of the world
I was 15
When I first felt betrayal
I was 15
When I learnt to forgive.

And then I was 16,
And I was lost,
I was 16,
And a hopeless case,
I was 16,
And in denial,
I was 16,
When I laughed as I cried,
I was 16,
And I couldn’t be enough.

And today I’m 17
And I’m still lost,
But I’m still laughing,
And I’m still crying,
And I’m still unable
To make  sense of the world,
But I know not everything
Can be made sense of,
And now I’m 17
And I’m insane,
But my madness, the fiend
Is now my friend.

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Image from: Handmade Philly

Inspired by:

“I’m seventeen and I’m crazy. My uncle says the two always go together. When people ask your age, he said, always say seventeen and insane.” — Ray Bradbury, Fahrenheit 451

And yes, I do turn 17 today. Yay! :3

Another Sleepless Night.

My God, its almost 3 am and the pills aren’t working again, I’m still awake, scrolling through endless news feeds and its one of those nights where everything is but an infinite circle, the days seem to repeat themselves, and so do the nights, so do I.
I am unable to think of a way to fall asleep, all I can do is feel strangely hollow again, and with it comes the strange knowledge that I’ll be alright no matter what.
It’s peaceful, yes, knowing that, but it isn’t the kind of peace that soothes you, it is an awkward, messy kind of peace that brings with it an awful headache and sets you on edge as if you expect an ambush at any moment, from what, I do not know, but it is a strange, lonely night and I wish I could just fly away or at least be able to sleep, but we don’t always get what we wish for, do we?
We don’t ever get what we wish for, instead we’re left to pine away all our lives for lost dreams and broken hopes, unheard prayers and unanswered phone calls.

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Image taken from here.

 

Strange Days.

The year is drawing to an end, and its been a strange few days with strange happenings, like when the flowers by my bedside refused to wither even after a week since they’d been picked, or when I almost cut my finger off, but didn’t feel a thing.

The year is drawing to an end, and I’m running out of reasons to keep breathing, really.