Everything Eventually Ends

this is life, you think.

and your hand itches,

and your ears squeemish,

as you hear a story unfold.

of a tale, of two best-friends

torn-apart, distant and colliding

with one another, breaking bonds

and fraying all olive branches,

all beyond any sort of repair

"I can't take this anymore, I have to leave."

and you hear an uproar in your mind as it races,

and squirms as you push for an answer, a solution

you just need to think of something smart, something fast,

some sort of miracle cure, that will fix this gap.

You open your mouth wish to say:

"Let me try to fix this. You both-"

Instead you say: 

"Okay."

A jumbled up wire

I hate this. 

This being my inability to communicate or handle my inner turmoil. I wish I could pile it up according to the severity of feelings, find the root cause and categorize, dismantle, and cleanly solve it. To precisely understand how I am and what I feel.

It's moment like these that I clean and re-organize my closet/kitchen/toilets/bedroom.

except, I've done it, a lot, that it's lost the numb feeling.

so... I've resorted to this. I know usually I write and absolve the feelings, like when the problems are big. but lately, I've been personally adamant in not facing this. like just focus on my destination. Put autopilot on, and just drive. signal. brake. drive. 

Life, as usual though, had other plans. It's created this complex traffic pile up, with all these surprise road signs and broken traffic lights.and now, my car's at a full stop, and I have to pay attention. 

It's a lot like having a wounded up jumbled piece of wire looped around itself that you have to untangle or you can't breathe. and right now, well, I feel like I can't breathe. and I'm suffocating.  

Like dominos are falling down a piece at a time, and the last tile is going to make the very foundation of my fragile sanity give way.

It's actually funny really, writing this right now, I can feel my stomach gnawing and my brain race.

the most prominent are sadness and regret.

Both of them are tangled and twisted around one another, I can't even tell where one begins or where the other ends. It's seeped into every single happy file I have, tinged it with outlines and squiggles. 

They're both persistent and arguably could be said the most redundant theme of my life. Adding weight to my ever growing load, and my back is starting to ache. It's a burdensome weight, but it is what it is. The truth is:

I'm stuck. in the sea of squiggles.

 here. at home, in this shell of a country.

 Always here. never there.

Simmer

a rumble,
a growl,
a hiss

claws,
stalks,
echoes,

Simmer and wait for slow boil, till then-

a rumble,
a growl,
a hiss

claws,
stalks,
echoes,

 repeat-

Again, and again, and again

It happens quickly and slowly at the same time,

it's a torrid and beautiful affair, that transcends all logical and scientific explanation. 

You were there. 

in your splendid disastrous glory,

for a faction of a second,

You were there. 

and my heart skipped a beat,

jumping, tilting of the axis

 like a sailor going overboard-

called, coaxed, entranced by the siren of the sea.

You are the siren of-

(Would saying 'my sea' be cheesy and totally uncalled for?)

You are the siren of the sea.

(There, that gives you an omnipotent mysterious air, that you had always strived for, no?)

but you're gone. and it doesn't make sense.

that even just the hint, even a very misplaced

and misguided hint,

Years, and years, and years,

sends my head into a spiral mess of emotions, 

my heart into a disarray of mis-tempo-ed beats, 

cause you're gone.

but i'm still in love with you.

Just a lil more

Shaking Hands, Trembling Fingers and-

Grasping, Clenching, and-

Hold.

I don't need a reason to kill myself, I need a reason not to.

I could die at any moment, the tragedy is that I don't.

What you want to see, and when you actually see it

There's a difference between believing in something and actually living it.

No matter how many times one can sprout sayings, argue beliefs and understand a set of morals, one can not truly understand what it is to actually live by them.

For days now, I've been trying to live by a mindset: See the world not as it is, but as it could be.

and let me tell you this, it's harder than it looks. To follow this. 

Cause when the whole world is being negative and just against you, it's hard to assume the possibility of positivity. when bad simply fills up your vision, it's hard to see the small acts of good. when all around you is pain, you can't believe there is relief.

All these weeks, you've been in pain and hurt, and no matter how many salves you use, there's still a sting. and only now, you've figured out that maybe it was because you were holding back, because you were preparing yourself, because you were afraid.

Afraid that people would leave again. Afraid that people would look at you, and think. "Meh, I could do better.". Afraid that you aren't enough.

and although, your other friends have helped mend you, it's these that you are still afraid of.  not that you're not afraid of the other friends leaving you. but these are the ones you are deathly afraid, cause they don't know you, as you are, 

the dark shadow that lives in the crevices of your mind

the morbidly grey morale that seeps into all the decisions you make

and also the sinister sadistic tyrant that lives in between all the smiles you give.

but there are moments, though. moments when you can believe in it. 

it comes with an easy laugh, a lowering down of defences, and an open conversation. It's when you let go of the possibility of them leaving you, from just a glimpse, at how truly irrevocably broken you are.

it's when you actually do,

see the world, not as it is, but as it could be.