It will be like this.
The last day of the week arrived. After putting up a front for the whole day, I would walk down the halls of the school, eyes looking as dead as my soul.
My ears would have my earphones in them that would be blasting the comfort song I listened to often, only difference would be that now, it did not bring as much comfort. It would just be emptiness. The melody, the lyrics, and the message would not resonate with me.
People would glance up to my direction. Those who didn't care would whisper words as good as swords. They would call me names as I lifelessly walked pass them. Those who did care would silently beg whoever highest being there was to bring me back.
But their prayers would not be attended to. So they would watch with sorrow and pity how the light in me slowly vanished into darkness. Nothing's left but my physical being.
Nothing. Not one piece of the light that I was holding would illuminate.
I would pass by everyone. Those who believed in me would express their disappointment. Those who threw stones at me would attempt to throw stones this time around to hurt me. But they wouldn't. They couldn't.
I would just exist into something and into nothing.
A noose would hang around the ceiling without my head. I would be too exhausted to even do so. I would just lay in bed. Let my mind wander into the depths of the mysterious uncertainty of the world. I would feel my heart racing. I would pull my hair for it to stop. Nobody would be there but me. When it would stop, nobody would be there. Just me.
Just me.
I knew why. We're all tired individuals. Chose to understand than to tend to myself. Selfish to even think of myself. No more of that. Just understand. No more of self.
I befriended the sharpness of my tools. Created wounds that could be seen to reflect on the wounds that were invisible. Never healed. Created scars. Became a memory I never wanted to remember but my head, my darling little messed up head, wanted to.
Stared into nothingness. Felt nothingness. Not even the single spark of hope. Not even the slightest bit of love. Just the void I couldn't fill and neither could anyone else. Miserable. Pathetic. Weak.
Exhaustion.
It's my fault. Self-pitying myself to the point of drowning. Stop being afraid they said. Stop the thoughts they said. But even they could not drive away the storm that was about to pass. They could not stop the earthquakes from happening. They could not force nature to stop getting back at humans. How could you stop me from being afraid? How could you stop my thoughts from running?
If it was easy, I would've been okay by now. I would've been loving to live again. I would've illuminated the hope I had inside me.
But no. That part of me's extinguished.
It will be like this. If I'm not careful enough. If I'm not mindful enough.
And the thing is, I'm not.
