#silent thought

[silentthoughtsvoiced]

It’s not funny.

I laugh.

It’s not funny.

The aftermath is that I’m stuck with this pain.

The pain stays.

My misery persists.

My what ifs and what do I do,

They don’t leave me alone.

I open up…to my sketchbook.

To them?

Please…don’t make me laugh.

My pain is within the drawings…within my writing.

I let it create,

I let it free.

This pain seems like forever.

When it’s me, myself, and I.

How can I complain?

There’s a roof over my head,

There’s food at the table,

There’s nothing but me, myself, and pain.

How can I complain?

The cup of fear has overflowed.

I can’t afford to spill anymore.

I’ve ran out of tissues.

I’ve done everything to not feel.

[silentthoughtsvoiced]

Startling Reality

Live.

Lived.

It’s the same, isn’t it.

I do.

I say.

I follow the script.

I can’t be wrong.

Living.

Surviving.

Struggling.

The resemblance is just amazing.

The silence falls on our shoulders like a blanket on a cold night.

Warmth,

something I’m not familiar with.

It never lasts.

Peace,

It burns out in seconds.

Fear,

They’re all I ever known.

I’ve gotten better.

I mean, I’m still here.

It’s nothing special, that is, befriending fear.

The hand wavers and the lip quivers.

The heart pounds and all sense of control has disappeared.

The mind becomes a maze of thoughts and emotions.

Who am I ?

What can I do?

Where do I go?

Who I can call?

How do I stop this?

Silence.

I don’t know.

There’s no trust.

It’s always been me, myself, and I.

It’ll be over soon.

I’ll be over soon.

[silentthoughtsvoiced]

Tired Cycle Lives On and On

It’s tiring,

Going on and on.

It’s tiring,

Listening and remembering your voice,

But failing to find my own.

It’s tiring.

Your words only hurt.

Your words are sacred.

Your words are the law.

Your words overpower me.

It’s tiring,

You paint my life in grey.

I know your words should be taken lightly.

I know.

This life is ours,

Not mine…ours.

[silentthoughtsvoiced]

Quiet in this Anxious State of Mind

When I should be happy,

I’m busy worrying about what you think.

When I should be proud of myself,

I put myself down for not meeting your expectations.

I should be happy,

But I’m consumed with making sure that you’re okay.

I should be proud,

But I just saw your reaction and it feels like I let everyone down.

I should be celebrating,

Yet here I am thinking about what I could have done to make you happy.

When will I get your stamp of approval?

I can’t keep up.

The stomach aches. The headaches. The loss of sleep.

I can’t keep doing this.

My silence is loud.

Believe me.

My loudest scream was silent.

[silentthoughtsvoiced]

I would be honest…

Who am I kidding?

I wouldn’t.

I place myself back there with you,

And I tell myself that I would be different.

I would.

If my pain was different too.

If these invisible scars were gone or didn’t exist.

I would be different.

More open.

More alive.

But if I were different would you ask me to stay.

Would we even be friends?

Would we even bond?

Would I be around you?

Would you tell me to stay if you knew me?

Who did you know?

That me was never me.

Who would I be if I went back?

And would I choose to stay?

[silentthoughtsvoiced]

Unheard in a Broken Home

How am I getting in trouble for not listening?

I grew tired of listening,

They kept disappointing me.

Putting the blame on each other.

Lashing out and paying no attention to how I felt.

I gave up.

I wish I could say I let go,

but I would be lying.

There’s a hand around my heart,

It tugs at my heart when I try to put space between them and I.

What kind of sorcery is this?

I can’t live without you.

I can’t be myself because of you.

Is this really how I’m supposed to live?

Some call it love, devotion, or respect.

I call it fear, sadness, and shame.

[silentthoughtsvoiced]

Losing. My. Mind.

"I look. I search for my daily bread. And what do I get in return? A door slammed in my face."

"It's not funny. Empty Promises. Rotten Fruit. If this continues, how will I keep a roof over my head?"

"Job Search is pulling on my ponytail. No call."

"I'm trying to survive against Invisible currents." I frowned, looking around. This is a desert. "I can't help myself. I want to curl up and cry. This is so frustrating. All i want to do is work and be able to buy what I need. Yet, it seems like every post is a tomb. Dead. Silent. Cold. You don't get a call back. And if you do, it's rejection."

[silentthoughtsvoiced]

Not So Cozy Winter

I walk past the shelves.

They're full of rotten greed.

The smell in the atmosphere is foul.

A smell that starves the future.

I glanced down at my cart.

Slices of Anger, a bag of frustration,

and a gallon of resilience.

The music in the background is loud,

but not loud enough to silence my panic.

I walk back to the same aisles to confirm the weight of my pocket.

This Winter, Tis the same season of survival.

In nauseating carol hymns,

they sing in our faces, the same lies.

There are those that sing along with their ugly Christmas sweaters.

Singing with the same tune, they sway along to latch onto the remaining warmth.

And then, there are those that spot the offtune,

the lack of emotion so they slam the door shut.

The familiar cozy warmth will return.