Because the power I had with words, kept me breathing
They were catalysts that made me feel like I could touch emotions
How I long for the great first impressions, the "Ohs" and "Ahs"
That feeling of being free, it's an extraordinary euphoria,
The way people were confused, how I was happy with just a pen and paper
The feeling that I am invincible, inside my own room until my mind envelopes me with the words I write in ink
The high of being able to express and communicate with my demons
The echos I missed to write and predict
Oh how I crave it, badly because it made me feel like I was something
But it never fails to break my soul each time I reminisce the essence of why I haven't visited my favorite writing spot
I want to know how it feels to be found
I want to understand who I am again, even if it terrifies the weak heart I own
I want what broke me, back in to my arms
That I can cradle it with the engraved longing deep within the shackles of oblivion in my pale, malfunctioning heart
Because do you know how it feels to listen and stay still as you hear your soul being ripped inch by inch, —while you slowly understood how you've lost something you never thought you would?
Do you understand how I have been so deprived of something that I am desperately in need of?
Do you think I am still sane?
For I am not able to hold a pen like I used to
I am trembling into my very core,
My anxiety cripples as I write this because I loathe how sensitive I am, that with one simple distraction I could lose the words I want to write down
I don't know how I've been surviving,
I don't how how I got through, but one thing's for sure
I adore words as much as how I abhor the way I thirst to compose
But I guess, somehow today I won't beat myself up
I hadn't realized until at the end of this piece
I've unconsciously taken the first step
It's been a while, that it felt like forever
Three years of living inside my own nightmare
For once, may I own the privilege of smiling proudly?
For I cannot perceive how terrified yet exhilarated my heart feels right now,
That it can pop out of my chest and scream terror, havoc —or maybe a proud speech?
Because I may be starting small but at least,
—sheinvanilla, A 3-Year Nightmare