I work so hard at making myself cold. On hardening my heart, bottling feelings until I'm numb.
"It doesn't bother me anymore."
"Nothing hurts."
"I don't care anymore."
"It's not important."
"Im fine here, content."
But then I see you. I see your face, hear your voice, touch your skin. And I realize that hardening your heart doesn't work. Freezing yourself over does nothing. Because the harder I get, the colder I am, the easier I am to shatter.
And honestly, that's what happens.
I speak your name, and I smile.
But my heart breaks as soon as I say it. It crumbles under the weight of forcing myself to be okay. And then every breath after just continues to hurt. The pieces of me remain broken in my chest. Pieces of shrapnel, sharp, pointed, and hard.
Every smile of yours is a stab. Every laugh of yours is a stab. Every glance of yours, another stab.
Stab, stab, fucking stab.
Until the inside of me is all scratched up and torn. Until my heart, my chest, my emotions are bleeding. Until I feel like I'll collapse if I stick around any longer. And I'm forced to accept the disgusting truth.
I am not okay.
I care.
The emotions I've bottled away and frozen? They're here. The heart that I've hardened and tried to turn to stone? It's here. In pieces, it's here, exactly how I wanted to avoid.
So what do I do then?
I smile at you again and back up. I take time off to reconstruct. To "heal."
And then I do it all over again. Because maybe this time, I'll be stronger.
Written 20 June 2018.
About the Creator
Alice ♡
"I am by nature, a dealer in words, and words are the most powerful drug known to humanity." - Rudyard Kipling
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