Most of the time I’m scared,
lost…even in my own skin.
There’s an untamed hurt…deep inside
one, I can’t seem to place.

There are people all around me,
I suffocate in their company,
and it’s not because I don’t care,
I do…I care so much.

I know there’s something wrong,
but what that “something” is, I cannot tell.
It has no name, I simply catch glimpses of it,
while it plays hide and seek,
in the dustiest corners of my soul.

I feel the presence,
I even pretend it’s not real.
But I never quite escape it,
it’s always there, lurking…playing its game,
waiting for the check mate moment of destruction.

What if I can’t fix it?
What if…
What if…
What if…
I have no answers.

When the silence starts to scream,
when the pain starts to demand,
I search for a crowd,
one that can distract the deafening silence.

The “something” gives me moments of peace
where I feel almost sound,
it lets my fears lay back down, if only for awhile.
Then comes back without warning,
crippling me with memories that can’t be unseen.

I can’t control my mind,
I yearn for actual silence.
I pray…
I cry…
I beg…
I scream…
Then I walk outside, into the world
and SMILE.

Taking on the universe to avoid the brokenness that lives inside.

Photo Credit: hernanpba Flickr via Compfight cc

Natasha Alexander

Writer, always Wife and Mother first. Perfect is overrated, I am flawed and yet loved. Now that I don’t chase perfection, I can chase my dreams. I have completed a "Write a Novel" course in 2015 through S.A. Writers’ College and passed with a distinction. I also completed the Copy-Editing and Proof-reading course through them in March 2016. My first Manuscript of 60 000 words has been written and currently seeking a publisher. I have been writing poetry since I was 14 and the reason/inspiration behind all my writing is a stand against women abuse. It is a cause that I hold close to heart. Something that started as an outlet for feelings too ghastly to speak about has turned into my passion.


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