Disillusion

ghost-in-the-machine-double-exposure-photography-bysimon-hart-artist-1467038869c84pl

Photo by Simon Hart

You sat me down and asked what’s been bothering me. I can’t find the words you’ll want to hear, so you can fill in the blanks. I’ve been going through the motions, pretending I’m at my best. Failing to outrun the past, I refuse to embrace it. When my last words spoken to a loved one were “Fuck you,” I find it hard to embrace that hate. The hate I feel for myself and the shame I feel deep down. Like rotting pieces in need of severing. But I’ve been cutting away ’til there’s not much left. I obsess over the opportunity to apologize to someone who’s already gone. I’ve missed every chance so far. You mentioned success. I can show you that my heads still a mess. I truly believe success isn’t anything else but the journey I take ’til my death. Wreck after wreck. Picking myself up when I’m made to feel less. But sometimes that weight is far too heavy. So I’ll lie underneath it and let it cave my body in. Everyone can make their jokes but I’m trying to figure it all out. Why I, along with everyone else, can’t fix the emptiness. The face we show others versus the face we keep to ourselves. Maybe that’s what leads to times like this. The disconnect is too much to bear so we seek self-hate to preserve our humility. I touch my chest searching for the answers. For a second believing my fumbling fingers can read as well as the blind. Why is my heart so heavy? It’s like stones have been tied to the bottom of it, thrown into the sea. You keep wanting to save me but sometimes I want to let go and drown. Let the water run its course through my lungs. I’ve been told “progress not perfection.” It’s hard to acknowledge the success of progress when my hands feel nothing. And my head is full of excuses to the madness. Ever convincing myself that things don’t need to be like this. Death is a part of life and I can live with that. What I can’t live with is what I’ve done with my own life. The good doesn’t outweigh the bad yet. And I don’t know if or when it will. I’ve been deeply affected by people who up and leave. I know I have no say in that but for once could they stay and guide me a little longer? Can I learn the lessons before they take their last breath? Can I right the wrongs before they’re gone? I can’t ask god or death to pause. For better or worse, I’ve been slowing down. It helps when my heart is beating like a drum through my chest but not when it’s empty. Stuck staring at the walls surrounding myself. I can’t break free of what I have left. Who am I? I know that in my nature I can rival the devil himself. But that’s not all of me. I’ll continue to contend with the diseased parts of my brain screaming to have me believe I’m worthless. I know I’m not alone but it’s hard to see that when you’re lost in the dark. This wasn’t a cry for help. It was the answer to your question. Another roadblock that I chose to neglect. But that time has passed and now it’s time to acknowledge and grow. I guess that’s what has been bothering me.

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