4 // punches, kicks, words

61 9 4

by witheredandscarred

by witheredandscarred

                                    
                                              Imagine a line.
                          White paint starting at the top of your head, stretched over your forehead, down your nose, painted across the middle of your body, splitting it into half, right up to your toes. 
                          That line rips you into two, creating a conflict, a constant war between the two parts. 

                          One part, you know you should listen to. The one which is constantly trying to pull you through, the one which makes you want to wake up, makes you want wash your face, makes you want to comb your hair, makes you want to do things which would help you. It's the part which wants to take help, seek advice and follow it. The part which wants to do something worthwhile, the part which wants to be better, the part which wants to move on. It's that voice at the back of your head which makes you feel guilty when you don't read a book you said you will. It's the part which wants you to tell your friends that you're sorry for being the way you are. It's the part which wants you to talk to your mom and tell her she's not doing anything wrong. It's the part which wants you to get that textbook out and read. It's the part that never really gave up on hope.
                          The other part, it makes you justify your mistakes. It makes you think that you will never be good enough. It reminds you of your friends who left you because you became difficult to deal with, it made you difficult to deal with. It makes you say hurtful things to your friends, it makes you put up a wall and not let anyone in. When you try to talk, it whispers in your ear to tell everyone that you're okay when you're really not. It makes you scream at your mother. It makes you want to rip the textbook apart, it makes you read the same words over and over again without understanding what they are. It makes you sleepless and doesn't let you eat healthy. This part constantly reminds you of the disappointment in your parents' words even when they say they care about you more than your grades. It keeps taking you back to the past when you don't want to keep thinking of it. It doesn't let you move on.
                          Why is it that my second part wins the war all the time?
                          -s