Where Are My Words?

dedicated to being lost

I have a creature inside me.
Growling and scratching to break free, petrifying me.
I try to keep quiet so I don't reflect its bestial ways.
It's difficult to manage this aching feeling of poison flowing through my veins.
I am numb.
To get agitated by the internal conflict I deal with day to day is an understatement.
I am a raging avalanche of colorful emotion that I can't free in words of my own.
I lean back and destroy myself as if it's my routine, then to be burned and abused by the monster that continues to feed on my sorrows.
From another's perspective I am happy, dedicating, hopeful.
But are they actually considering my mental well-being or the fake mask I display?
I am in the absence of all things positive,
Waiting to flee this prison of infinite gloom, but craving the heartbreak and pain in the process.
I am numb.
A constant cul-de-sac or roadblock standing in my way.
It's a frustrating journey you only wish to escape because no one understands.
Most people try, but my loss of words and construction makes my effort irrational and meaningless.
I wish to be revived, all that I hope for is to live again.
But wishing doesn't get anyone where they want to be.
We don't live in a fairy tale, miracles only happen to certain people, that could never happen to me, right?
I am numb.
I can only keep wishing that one day I will be fixed.
Someone will come along to help me retrace my journey and find my broken pieces, carrying the shards in their arms.
They will be there with me at two in the morning trying to fit me back together like a puzzle, using all of the glue and tape possible.
I will crave the warmth of someone who actually cares and is willing to be there and flood out the creature inside.
They will extinguish the flames and smoke, withdrawal the poison, and replace it with the hope I will recover.
Because you can still be independent with someone by your side.
I am numb,
From the love and respect I deserved all along.