Facing the mirror, a teary clown looking back.
You would think figuratively howbeit I mean literally.
What is so triggering, do I really not know? Isn't it those moments, as each of it before it passes: that I feel the way I do over fear and traumatic events I must have shoved at the back of my mind believing all is well over how physically, everyone is alright and we are moving on with life. Isn't it wonderful? How you're doing beautiful on the other side- ah but of course darling, definitely not. You could be guilt ridden as I am going slow pace healing, thinking, of ways to be more rational as it gets less of so. Yes, we can pretend. No, excuse me- I can. You are exceptional remember? Then again I cannot bother more. Talking about you is a distraction of how I should be thinking of myself and how the unsolicited sickness in my stomach emerges when I'm reminded by someone's reaction or the way things are said or mentioned; that I do not want to go there yet I am unable to speak of something so trivial to another just because it is vital to me, acknowledging how it will not mend the feeling in my gut. However I am to be gentle with myself enough to tell someone else even if it might not seem as imperative to them out of ignorance and insights I do not shine light on.
Up until I get to thinking, what is there to fix when you were never broken? Perhaps I can tell him and have us sit it out. Mayhap it is the presence is all I need. The validation of how this make sense, to someone else other than me so I do not end to keep talking to the same brick wall as if playing ping pong with half of the table upright and missing every shot, losing focus over the mind of the person in front of me being absent. Once again, it is not you, it is me. So I start taking steps back despite the urges to go forward over the same patterns I should grow out off. Every change takes me back to where I was I am more petrified than I would believe I could be over gradual growth albeit as I write this down, every energy inside of me is pushing me to jump off that cliff to dive into the next thing I'm bound to fall into when every experience a test if not a lesson, a gift or a fortune..so why do you cry still: searching for both pupils staring long enough that the damp from your eyes are not tears but from the lack of blinking-
Uncertainty inevitable as much as our inability to conceive an indisputable truth of what is to come, even so I am unable to put myself in the position of those unsure of the desire for me in their life. No, not again.
You would think figuratively howbeit I mean literally.
What is so triggering, do I really not know? Isn't it those moments, as each of it before it passes: that I feel the way I do over fear and traumatic events I must have shoved at the back of my mind believing all is well over how physically, everyone is alright and we are moving on with life. Isn't it wonderful? How you're doing beautiful on the other side- ah but of course darling, definitely not. You could be guilt ridden as I am going slow pace healing, thinking, of ways to be more rational as it gets less of so. Yes, we can pretend. No, excuse me- I can. You are exceptional remember? Then again I cannot bother more. Talking about you is a distraction of how I should be thinking of myself and how the unsolicited sickness in my stomach emerges when I'm reminded by someone's reaction or the way things are said or mentioned; that I do not want to go there yet I am unable to speak of something so trivial to another just because it is vital to me, acknowledging how it will not mend the feeling in my gut. However I am to be gentle with myself enough to tell someone else even if it might not seem as imperative to them out of ignorance and insights I do not shine light on.
Up until I get to thinking, what is there to fix when you were never broken? Perhaps I can tell him and have us sit it out. Mayhap it is the presence is all I need. The validation of how this make sense, to someone else other than me so I do not end to keep talking to the same brick wall as if playing ping pong with half of the table upright and missing every shot, losing focus over the mind of the person in front of me being absent. Once again, it is not you, it is me. So I start taking steps back despite the urges to go forward over the same patterns I should grow out off. Every change takes me back to where I was I am more petrified than I would believe I could be over gradual growth albeit as I write this down, every energy inside of me is pushing me to jump off that cliff to dive into the next thing I'm bound to fall into when every experience a test if not a lesson, a gift or a fortune..so why do you cry still: searching for both pupils staring long enough that the damp from your eyes are not tears but from the lack of blinking-
Uncertainty inevitable as much as our inability to conceive an indisputable truth of what is to come, even so I am unable to put myself in the position of those unsure of the desire for me in their life. No, not again.
-riri-
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