I'm supposed to be an expert on self-care.
And yet I assure you that I only brush my hair before we speak,
and,
if it's a video call,
I don't brush my hair at all.
At this point I am seriously considering changing my career,
from being a professional in emotional availability,
to a self-appointed creature of the night;
there's no simpler way to close off the heart than to just stop it from beating.
Don't get me wrong,
I love my heart;
it is who I am.
It's just,
I too easily give away the chambers,
for others to use as their pump,
as their lifeforce.
Therefore,
when it's time to oxygenate my own blood,
my heart has already given up.
It's tired,
and so am I.
So, at this chaotic time of the year,
the vampiric trade sounds awfully appealing.
To put it simply,
no one wants a piece of you when you're dead,
or when all you can give them is a chunk of a lifeless organ.
So I might just sign up for the vampire vocation.
Sleeping all day,
and staying up all night,
it's not so different from my life now.
Nobody messages me during the night,
so it's the only time where I get some heart for myself.
YOU ARE READING
Introspection: Poems by a Ruminator
PoetryWhen hardship is experienced, it is only human of us to think on the past. Sometimes though, we end up in a cycle of rumination, reliving events that cannot be changed; we become depressed in our memories. Writing can be therapeutic, so here is a co...
