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?
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.
Then I walk outside, into the world
Taking on the universe to avoid the brokenness that lives inside.