LonleyWriter

Just here to word vomit the things that wont leave my mind, Feel free to drop by :). More of my work on Substack!

[rweab2kissrn]

I just want to scream

I want to run

Where can I go

Without the sun

[rweab2kissrn]

Anxiety

Where do you go when it all gets quiet,

Like leaves falling in the woods,

Together yet alone?

The people are talking,

Looking for a reaction, but I'm still,

motionless.

Where do you go when you feel numb,

Is there a place to set this down for a minute-

Not long,

Just for a period - so I can catch my breath?

Where can I run when I can’t fake a smile any longer,

When the depth I’ve given turns into an ocean I can’t swim in.

Where can I turn when my skin starts to crawl,

Will it ever stop?

All these thoughts in my head are so loud,

Can you hear?

I think the quiet is what I can’t stand.

[rweab2kissrn]

Poor little boy

Poor little boy all alone in the world.

Two ends of a stick, but you still can’t row.

When the night comes, you feel less alone.

All the stars in the world, but you’re still not home.

Poor little boy, what’s wrong with the world?

All you want is a feeling, something to own.

[rweab2kissrn]

Journal #3

Do you ever think the one who stabs you in the back is bleeding too,

The dishes in the sink that linger a little too long,

The spot on the ceiling that’s been dripping on the floor for months,

The meaningless conversations that happen behind closed doors.

Does it lurk?

That feeling when you know there are two sides to a story, but which is true.

Can you tell who is bleeding more?

Are the wounds worse than what’s been left behind?

I can’t tell if I’m the one bleeding,

Or if it’s you.

[rweab2kissrn]

Let me die in the woods so Mother Nature can reclaim what once was hers.

Let me bask in the sun to rejuvenate my soul.

Let me sink beneath the moon, listening to its sweet tune.

Let the river run past me so I remember that everything in life flows.

I shall run through flowered fields so that youth may touch me once more.

Let the wind roll over the hills, its whispers reminding me I'm not alone.

Let the mountains and cliffs kiss me with death, leaving me to grasp the little things.

Let all the small moments remain big.

And let the big moments remind me

I’m still small

[rweab2kissrn]

Journal # 1

Most days I have anxiety now.

My hands tremble even on the good days, like people with Parkinson’s never having a moment of peace.

I used to sit there and stare at my hands almost in a trance, thinking why won’t you stop?

That was until I realized it was the trauma.

The long nights.

The overworked hours.

The yelling and screaming.

The pushing and shoving.

The cheating.

But mostly,

The loud silences that could fill a room full of people.

The thing is trauma doesn’t leave like that.

Maybe piece by piece,

Over slow mornings,

admiring the sunrise,

a fresh cup of coffee warming the parts that need it most.

Time heals slowly.

My hands still tremble.

Yet,

Learning to be still,

Too.