I can't begin to pour my heart out.

If I did Im afraid of what would come rushing to the surface. A fresh mounted wound that never wanted to heal itself, stinging and ripping with every move i can't begin to cry enough. Cant scream enough to dull the years of anger and rage. But I think the worst part of it, is that no one hears it.

I reach out to grab at people, people who smile to me and I in hope can see. Only to be met with the mist, their smiles hollow and their faces gone before the mist could clear.


Every time i try to reach I fall through and wonder how is it no one can see me. Am i a ghost, a mere shell to walk this earth, face drawn away from the warm sun.

Cold and despondent I hate that I live with this mask.

"Im okay."

"Things are fine."

When in actuality I want someone to see past the mask and say STOP.




I want someone to see me, really see me, and not the smile I put up.

But that is asking for too much in a world where things on the outside is all anyone ever wants. I am convinced I am over thinking. That maybe in my mind I am seeing something or feeling something not there.

But at night as I kay and my mind wanders i feel a dark shadow over it. A whisper in the dark that is and has always been with me.

"If you were to be swallowed whole by this darkness, no one would notice my dear"

As the years have gone on I find this voice louder, and my own smaller. The darkness even blacker, and in my heart a growing dread that it may be right
isodole isodole
22-25, F
Aug 15, 2014