I DON’T KNOW. It’s like, every time a question pops up in my head, the only answer I can come up with is, “I DON’T KNOW.” Why am I feeling like this? I DON’T KNOW. Why haven’t I done anything about it? I DON’T KNOW. My mind feels like it’s stuck on a loop, replaying the same answer over and over, and it’s draining me. Sometimes, it feels like I’m drowning in my own thoughts but can’t find a way to swim out.
I DON’T KNOW! And that’s what’s driving me insane. Why am I always so tired, like there’s a weight pressing down on my chest every time I try to move? People keep throwing suggestions at me—stress, bad habits, whatever—but none of it really sticks. It’s like they’re offering band-aids when what I really need is a way to stop the bleeding. Because honestly? I still DON’T KNOW.
Then, for the first time, I actually collapsed. My legs just gave out from under me, and as dumb as it sounds, a part of me was relieved—finally, someone noticed. Maybe now they'd understand. But no. Instead, they told me to get a checkup, without even bothering to offer to come with me. So much for support.
And then, the same people had the audacity to ask, “Why didn’t you tell us sooner?” Like, seriously? I was lying around all day, not even touching my phone, staring blankly at the ceiling, and you thought I was fine? You think I wouldn’t have said something if I knew what was wrong?
And don’t even ask me why I haven’t done anything about it yet. I DON’T KNOW. Maybe it’s fear. Maybe it’s the exhaustion that comes from waking up every day feeling like I’m carrying bricks on my back. But one thing I do know? I can’t stay stuck like this forever. I can’t keep letting “I DON’T KNOW” be my answer. Someday, I’ll figure it out. I have to.
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Her Poems of Life
شِعرIn real life, because of my speech problem, I've often felt silenced, always behind the scenes, never truly able to show my full self. It feels like no one ever noticed my absence, my pain, or the parts of me that remained hidden. These poems are my...
