Poetry

Walk

A walk, just a simple walk around the block.

It should be so nice and calming.
No stress,no anxiety. Just relaxed.
But as soon as I walk to the end of my street I start feeling it.
Some people may describe it as butterflies, but there is nothing nice and cute about this feeling.
For it to be accurate those butterflies would have to be on fire and have sharp steel blades for wings.
I try to stay in control of this feeling, I try to contain it.
I don't want anyone to see how I'm feeling. It's stupid, I feel stupid for feeling so scared about something so little and unimportant.
But it happens.
I try to power trough it, because I don't want to be weak, I don't want to feel weak.
But it sucks, the feeling starts getting worse and worse.
I can't breathe like I normally would. I feel so constricted even though I have all the freedom I could possibly want and need.
While this all is happening I keep walking, step for step.
The feeling keeps growing and growing and then it hits me. Like those butterflies from hell are trying to break out of my body.
I am so scared, I want to break down and cry, I want to run back.
But I know I shouldn't, I should go through this even though it's so fucking hard.
But then, then I realise, I am not walking this walk alone. My dad is right beside me, and he has been all this time.
He puts his hand out for me to grab.                                                                                                                              I stop for a second, take a deep breath and take his hand. It feels like with grabbing his hand, he takes part of this really awful and fucked up feeling.                                                                                             I still feel scared. But with him I feel like I can get through it.                                                                         We start walking again.                                                                                                                                                        I still want to go back but now I know running back would take me more time than going forward. So I keep walking.                                                                                                                                              And then finally when we almost get back to our street. The feeling starts to go away, it flows away wave after wave. And then we are on our street and I finally can say that I feel relaxed. And I am happy and proud for powering through, my dad, my mom and my brother are so proud of me, and even tho I felt so bad while doing it, did it.

Those feelings were temporary.
Feeling like shit is temporary.

[I didn't write this bc I want to tell you what to do. This is to remind myself.]