daily staring at the walls wondering where my home is. they say...home is where the heart is. then how do i cope with the always present fact that my heart is thousands of miles away. most days i am okay...i stumble along hoping for anything...but this. it's hard to talk about the past year. i try not to talk about it all, but it eats away at me every night when i lie awake staring at the neon glow of the television, because i'm too scared of what total silence and darkness may bring. there are ghosts in the hallways and in my head.
but it's much more than "this"...the "this" that i won't mention. i feel stifled. i feel unlike myself. i feel unable to express what's in my head in a way that is authentic and unhindered. i feel inspired but cannot find the right outlet for expression. writing has become hard, because it is too painful and too personal. i write and find myself depressed for days, because the words carry weight that i cannot hold.
No comments:
Post a Comment