No Fight Needed
I have mastered the art of wall building, when it comes to my heart. My heart is protected by a glorious mass of gnarly dangers that I have put there myself. It isn’t just a wall. It is an entire system of defense. There are spears and spikes and shards that stick out in random places, all over. Flames engulf the perimeter. When my brain hears certain words or sees patterns emerging, a slimy substance secretes from the walls to prevent further climbing. I always thought that the only way I could ever be happy and feel safe was to find the one that would see this monstrosity of defense, and fight and climb anyway. I believed I needed the one that wouldn’t be scared away by what I have built, and would instead want to risk it all for the chance to get to the other side. But I have been doing it all wrong! I don’t want the fight at all. I don’t want the one who is willing to hurt himself in order to get to my heart. I don’t need the one that wants to destroy the wall and prove his worthiness. No…I have been backwards. All I want, is the one that makes me want to open the fucking gate. No fight needed. I want the one that makes me feel like the wall isn’t even necessary anymore. I need the one that doesn’t even have to ask for the key. Because he already has it.
Walking In Circles
Walking in circles, walking in circles in this gray, dreary, awful place. So small, so confined, blocked off from civilization. The cement floor appears cold and damp.
Walking in circles, walking in circles in stripes, branding them as criminals. They are forever in a shadow. The sunlight is just out of reach above them. I know it is there. I can see the hints of yellow on the bricks high above their heads.
Walking in circles, walking in circles in their minds as well. Their heads are bowed down as if to say, “I am sorry. Sorry for what I did to be put in this cage.”
But there they are still, walking in circles. Walking in circles in a shadow of where they used to be.
You told me that you know me better than anyone else knows me. But you only ever scratched the surface. You know the “Melanie” that I allowed you to know. The essence of me was kept hidden away because you weren’t capable or worthy of knowing her. You are too quick to discount what you don’t understand or agree with. You write me off as heartless and cold. Why? Because I told you the truth of it? I scream the truth at you over and over, only to have you keep asking me the same damn question again…and again…and again, waiting for a different answer.
Who are you to tell me that my truth isn’t enough? Well, it is all that I have. So, that is what I give you. I give you the truth and let you hate me and feel cheated and betrayed, because I will not give you a lie just so you can continue to cling to this illusion and stay happy and content in your false idea of “me”.
So ask your question of someone else. The “Melanie” you created in your mind doesn’t exist. And, I refuse to pretend that she does.
Longing for peace…
I sit my phone on my dresser, 10 feet away from my bed, at night. Not because I want to ignore it. I do it so I HAVE to GET OUT OF BED to shut the alarm off.
I force myself to make my bed every morning. Not because I care how it looks. I do it so the urge to crawl back in and hide all day isn’t quite so strong every time I see it.
I try to write down my thoughts as often as I can. Not because I think anyone cares to read them. I do it in the hope that writing them down will get them out of my head so I can finally have a little peace and quiet.
I worry about EVERYTHING. Not because I truly believe the bad thoughts will come to life. I worry because I constantly have all of the possible scenarios running around in my head…and they take over.
I wish i could sleep all of the time. Not because I am bored or not interested in life. I want to sleep because that is the only time that I don’t have to think.
I have crazy, vivid dreams. Not because I am scared or ate something weird before bed. I have crazy, vivid dreams because, even when I am sleeping, the thoughts can’t stop.
I get emotional at times when i am talking about important things. Not because I am sad or paranoid. I get very emotional because I EXPERIENCE all of these thoughts as if they were already manifested in action.
I get down on myself and mad all of the time. Not because I think that I am weak or stupid. I get down on myself because I know that I am strong and smart, but am still inept to make the thoughts stop.
I long for something to make me numb. Not because I can’t handle pain. I long for numbness because I wish, more than anything, that i could completely relax, if even for only a few minutes.
No thoughts…No worries…No anxiety…JUST ME.