Midnight Thoughts

It's a wonder I can't hear my heart breaking, I think. It feels and hurts so much that its shatter can't possibly be silent. But when its been chipped away at, piece by piece, year after year, and all that's left is to give one little tap and it'll all fall apart- well, that's when it makes the least noise I suppose- a silent cocophany that drowns out any possibility of noise. My heart's been broken for awhile, I realise. It's only different now because while before I suffered my heartbreak on my lonesome, now I do so with my arms wrapped around the undeserving victims of tragic circumstance.

And that, I concede, is the reason why this heartbreak is one to crush all others: because when other people are involved, I can't help but feel from them, and in order to feel from them I need to extricate myself from my bubble of isolated emotion.

I wonder, now, if it's over- if it'll ever really be over. Layer upon layer of struggle leaves me tired of saying, "Now this?"

When will they be done with me? I don't plan on giving up anytime soon, as much as their whispered words tell me I do. This could be a long struggle if one of us doesn't yield.

Am I mad at God? I think so, yeah. Am I mad at myself? Definitely. Am I mad at the world? No. If you're still reading this because you have nothing better to do, then know that I am not mad at you.

I'm so sick of losing. I'm sick of losing friends, losing family, losing faith and hope and health, losing opportunities and interest and my grip on reality. None of this seems real anymore, and if I ask myself, none of it's felt real in years. So where does that leave me? Am I the lonely girl with nothing to lose? The sob story that someone will take a moment to pity? Am I even living anymore? I remember a teacher once saying to me, in one of my worst times, "You can't keep doing this every day, this is barely living." Words have never been more truthful.

I don't know what this is anymore or where it's going, so I'll leave it at this; Maybe you can learn something from me. Maybe not, maybe you'll just go on with your day and never think of this again, and that would be just fine because not everything needs to have a point. But if you take anything away from this which has strayed so far from its poetic roots, take away this:

You're alive. I'm alive. We are alive, and nothing in all of creation can invalidate our jumbled mess of emotions- and that's what makes us human.