some days i wish that i could cease living with the promise that it isn't the real end
that i can start new
a new someone
a new somewhere
it's as if i wish to be detached from the nails in my chest,
ripping my skin to keep me on the ground
the fear of feeling so much nothing that you'd rather feel true nothing than a little something,
but that true nothing scares you more than the nothing you're so painfully aware of
when the sky seems grayer,
when time slips under your feet and trips you into passiveness
when food doesn't taste it just fills
when water doesn't cleanse it just drowns
some days i wish that i could feel more
more warmth on my skin
more blush on my cheeks
more smiles on my lips
more music in my ears
but it seems like feeling nothing feels like so much more than everything else
because it feels like the end
it feels like a loss, a loss of the person you were or hoped to be
it feels like life has me in a noose and i have the power to kick the chair from beneath me but the only thing stopping me from kicking the chair is life itself, of course
because despite the painfulness of the absence of pain,
hope fills my lungs with every breath,
every slow, long breath,
and it falls out of my eyes and salts my lips
hope that rests in the wish that i don't need death to start new
YOU ARE READING
C'est La Vie
Puisia collection of poetry made for laughs, smiles, late night crying, philosophical life questions and self worth revelations. indulge and enjoy
