nothing else but my heart's desire [COLLECTION] | FINISHED

Dreaded Day - ORIGINAL PROSE

Can't feel easy, uneasy at best, can't begin to express the discomfort, as I tear at my skin, as it feels as though its far too tight, far too close for comfort. Can't feel well, can't feel better still, can't begin to express how it feels to lose yourself in the moment and the next, and so on until the end of time. Can't fight these feelings of shame and guilt, as they eat away at my insides, as they gnaw so viciously at my brain, as they try to gain my attention in this eternal back and forth, this power struggle between myself and the sands of time, as they slip as effortlessly through the gaps in my fingers. Can't lose myself still, as I drown my sorrows and record all which passes through those gaps between words, between the space of time from each second to the next, when everything and anything can transpire, yet nothing ever does. 

Can't understand yet I understand far too much, as sentences remain unfinished and thoughts are lost to the recesses of my mind, never to be retrieved again, as some hold the secrets to the universe and others are simple necessities, tangible feelings of need, all with aim to communicate my desires, fears, and everything in-between. Can't begin to start this dreaded day, yet can't sit still as I lie here in bed, as I stare at the empty walls around me, as my ceiling stares back and wonders still what shall become of me, in this rat race of life, as I struggle to keep up with those so far ahead, who never seem to pause as they can only look ahead - never to question, never to ponder, never to ask why, why, why. 

Can't lose time, can't stop to think of all the possible routes I could have taken to reach this very moment as I record my anxieties in poem and prose, as the tears fall inward, as my mind crumbles and breaks, as it shatters into a great deal many tiny, incomprehensible pieces, far too many to reassemble what was and what will never be. Anxiety is my friend, a friend of an enemy and an enemy of a friend, as it has always been and shall always be, as it never leaves me and tears a piece of my sanity away, as it forces my eyes to the broken shards before me, as it recounts each possible moment from which I had begun to divert from the mainstream, where I had begun to be ostracised from society, never to be as one, always to be set apart from the rest. 

I can't lose any more sleep, I can't begin to think any differently, but all I can do is stand tall, as the tears fall still, to face this dreaded day.