I've been walking through this life aimlessly.
This life that is barren, and unfruitful.
The life where there is no place for me to hide.
I can't hide from prying eyes.
I can't hide from prying hearts.
I can't hide from my own thoughts.
Eyes search for something that isn't there.
Some worth that isn't there, that never was there.
Those prying eyes try to tell me what I'm feeling.
They push me into a box that makes me feel worse.
They don't believe me when I say I'm fine.
I tell them I'm fine when I am fine, but because of their prying I'm put into a rut.
A rut that has slippery slopes and at any moment of my struggle, I could be sent flailing back down to the bottom.
The hearts that know what I'm feeling.
The hearts that know, yet they don't understand.
Those prying hearts that grasp at the ghost of my feelings, and turn me numb.
The hearts that when they swirl the wisps of those feelings, leave me feeling nothing.
Their fingerprints are forever on my heart, keeping me scared, and keeping me from doing what scares me most.
Because of their hands that clutch me so tightly, I can't breathe.
Breathing becomes to much of an effort.
My thoughts.
They chase me and haunt me to the darkest corners of my mind.
While I feel numb, my thoughts are still racing.
Those thoughts that make me feel insecure, even when I dazzle the room.
Those thoughts that terrorize me with their horror.
Those thoughts that's that, even in the best of times, leave me in the worst of moods.
Those thoughts that, in a room full of those closest to my heart, leave me stranded.
Those thoughts that plague my mind with deeds of self harm.
Those thoughts that skitter me away from that edge.
Those thoughts that even I can't begin to comprehend.
Am I depressed?
That's something I often ask myself, but I see people who are depressed, and I criticize myself for even thinking my hurt is as bad as theirs.
I criticize myself by saying, the pool I'm drowning in isn't as deep as theirs.
What am I?
