I'm walking on a tightrope.
Careful steps,
One toe out of line and I'll fall back into the abyss.
The concentration is crushing,
My eyes burning as I stare at the wall, this is worse than the grip of a strangers hand around my arm,
The nights are getting longer.
The breath of my demons absent,
I can't breath
And yet my heart is hammering and drumming and pounding away,
It demands the attention that I deprive it of.
It screams the name, the same name every goddamn beat it suffers me through.
Forget the warmth, I am burning,
My skin crawls until I pick it off and peel away at my knuckles,
My inability to spit the words the burn my tongue to ashes.
Because what if.
I have never been the one to try and grab the spotlight,
I'm just loud.
I walk in a room and the walls fall down, my body language is extreme and my facial expressions are otherworldly.
Unintentionally eye catching.
I have heard the same words slip from many different lips.
"I won't leave"
"You mean everything"
"I'm nothing without you"
The empty syllables echoing out the corners of my mind,
Deafening me with every letter, every word that they dare promise me.
They promised me their tomorrow, their next week,
Their entire month
And here I am, breathing heavy, heart hammering,
Drumming,
Pounding,
With those empty words-
"I love you"
"I'm here"
"I'll look after you"
My ears ring with silence,
It compresses me,
Flatten me like a can and leave me out in the dirt,
I am litter.
I have heard the same organisation of letters so many times.
And each and every time they left.
Often for someone else they promised me not to worry about
It's always the thing I was told to not worry about,
Am I nothing?
I feel like nothing.
I feel crazy.
I hope you never know what it will feel like for me when you frown and say you treat everyone this way.
When you open your mouth slightly and ask me what the hell im on about,
There was nothing,
There never was,
Characters
They're nothing
It's nothing
... am I nothing?
I feel like nothing.
My heart is hammering,
Drumming,
Pounding,
Waiting for the knife to stop it.
End me with your words if you so wish.
I'm no good for you.
YOU ARE READING
Raw Emotions
PoetryContradictions are my addiction, Let me carve into your ribs the words that my lips fail to form, I refuse to be anything but greyscale, scrubbing the colour from my skin to feel a sense of belonging within this vibrant world. Too much, Not enoug...
