Life Is A Conflict - Poetry Book

What a mess

If my mind were a room,
Or rather a closet,
It would be a replica of the one in my room.
Piled up to the ceiling with unnecessary things that I don't think about anymore.
Clothes that I don't wear anymore, clothes that others gave me, clothes that stopped fitting me a long time ago but I kept them for nostalgia or memories.
It's annoying how these thoughts stick to us even though we try to scrape them off or throw them out of our minds. 
If I were to try and clean this mess, it would take me more than a month.
Although I never realize how big the heap will be, every time I look through the pile, I am left in awe. 

Of all the things I forgot to do,
Of everything that's been shoved to the back of my mind,
And all these thoughts are so precious, yet of no use to me.
Why have I not said these out loud?
Where did they even come from?
As I try to recall the time when each word was created in my mind, I realize
There are some beautiful thoughts that I need to share,
Some truly fashionable clothes that I should wear.
Often times I bring back the same thoughts that I am accustomed to. 

I wear the same clothes for my own comfort. 

Yes, I agree if you call me lazy, but a mind cannot function without something familiar to hold on too. 
I imagine what I could've said instead of what I did a few seconds ago.
I relive the situations that could have gone by perfectly, but they went miserably wrong. 

I rethink the possibilities of me opening up to people that I barely talk to.

Could they hurt me?
Would they hurt me?

My thoughts end me, but at the same time they breathe hope into my blood,
they push me to the point where I'm the only best friend that I have.
In all the 16 years of my transitioning life,
there have been millions of things that have gone unnoticed by me.
Things that maybe if I noticed,
I wouldn't be here.
Writing this poem or even thinking about it.

My mind has made big decisions that I couldn't comprehend,
I'm thankful for the ever-growing pile in me.
For it helps me out when I have no one to talk to,
It provides me with the comfort that I look for.

If I'm alone,
it prevents me from feeling lonely.
And I love that.
Because not everybody has this faithful pile,
that keeps their thoughts controlled.

Not everybody is a mess like I am,
they are far too organized to let the pile take over them.
But sometimes it helps me cope,
This pile tells me that I need not be perfect.
I have my own huge mess and I'm saving it.

Don't force yourself to keep everything in order,
a mess has its own beauty, just like everything else in nature.
Sometimes it may seem overwhelming,
but those are the times when you need to accept your mess ups.

Our thoughts are like waves.
We pull them to the shore and see if they reach our sand covered toes.
And when that one thought finally touches our skin,
we are brave enough to go deeper,
And accept the cool water that washes away all the dirt from our feet.
In a way our thoughts cleanse us,
and without even knowing it,
we seem to trust it more than anyone else.

***

Please comment if you like this poem. This one had a lighter meaning than the other two that I've written so far. Hope you enjoy it!!!

P.S. If you're into fanfiction, you can go and read my other story too. Thanks!