This is part conversation with you, part conversation with myself.
“I’m just so fuckin’ depressed, I just can’t seem to get out this slump
If I could just get over this hump
But I need something to pull me out this dump”*
Maybe it’s just PMS… oh no! No, this has been going on for so long now it can’t be PMS and also.. don’t you ever, ever undermine your pain like that again… but toughen up already… be strong goddammit you know that being a woman means being twice as strong… the entire world is expecting you to be weak… how do you think people would treat you after that? No, they won’t handle with care they will do the opposite of that… so weakness here is unforgiven and it’s not allowed period.
Yeah I am a woman.. but sometimes I can’t live up to my meaning.
Sometimes I’m flesh heavy with soul… bones kissing gravity as it pulls me way down…
I am a fragment of humanity.. that fell onto the Equator to melt and evaporate creating clouds then rain and pour, and pour, and pour but now… I am drained… I’m deformed and I grew cold… dry of love… crippled feelings… and hollowness.
My loneliness is the rock that my backbone was leaning on for so long it started forming a hole inside it. My heart has no home… it’s walls aimlessly pound against each other.
My shoulders involuntarily shrug I try to utter out a cry but the cry is trapped in my throat pushing down my words and strangling my thoughts and… I can’t comprehend how everything in me can be this quiet and yet so loud that I can’t put myself to sleep at night… where does all the noise go when I need to speak? where does all the music playing in my head go when I need to raise my voice?
Hatred settled beneath my skin and it was towards no body but myself… I’m so painful to myself.
I’ve been bending forward and bending back claiming flexibility for I don’t afford to break… the sound of breaking have always scared me. It seems I’ve been broken all a long… but denial can make everything pretty and self pitty is never sexy so I ain’t complaining.. ain’t nobody got time for that.. just smile.. smile more.. there you go.
Some damage awakens years and years after I’ve forgotten about it… I find myself stumbling upon the ruins… coughing out particles left behind by a wreckage I thought I left behind… and I ask myself million times… why all this happening to me? What is happening to me? why do I feel so horrible? what the fuck is wrong with me?
so I google shit up searching for answers.. Google seems to be the only one with straight forward answers… I type my symptoms in the search box and then it happens… I see that phrase, that title I’ve always looked away from, ooh.. so that’s, that’s why… I almost forgot.
Some wounds never heal you know… like Frudo Bagens sword wound or Harry Potter’s Z shaped scar that aches whenever the one who shall not be named is around.
Some wounds, shall not be named. They find new ways to hurt and break and inflame.. they work in different forms to mess with my brain… it’s not my fault. But that doesn’t change the fact that it still hurts… the fact that it is what it is and can’t be undone.
“There is no illness, no disease or dis-ease that you do not have the medicine for. Those wounds you keep are gaping wounds but they can be healed. You will always bear the scars but the wounds themselves can be healed”**
*Eminem – Beautiful
** -Dominique Christina