Emotions
What emotion do you feel most right now?
What emotion do you feel most right now?
That strange question seems like something only a therapist would ask. They seem to ask with the intent of decoding me. Breaking me apart, re-wiring me to find out why I am broken. That one question that is so easy to lie to and most do but, should I. More for me I don't know how to answer. How would you describe a vague emptiness that seems to suffocate you while making you feel lost and in the dark. If I speak my mind to an actually therapist I'll go. Well who am I kidding people just ask to be polite. They don't care what I have to say. I'm fine, I'm okay, nobody wants to hear to hear not good. It's a mood killer. What do you say to someone who says that. Their fake pity, their fake support, their fake empathy. I don't want it. So why bother.
What emotion do you feel most right now?
I'm great, the lies leak through my teeth. Is it actually lying. I don't feel the heartache of sadness. I don't feel the cheeriness of being happy. I don't feel the weakness of being tired. I feel a dull ache of nothingness. The feeling of being empty but not knowing what it is that you need to make it stop. Should I be concerned, should I be glad... It's not like I'm feeling bad. Which is worse the pain of sadness, the rage of anger or the constant numbing of emptiness. I feel it a lot, I don't know why most of the time. But, I guess it is okay right. As long as I'm not a sob story that ruins the mood I'm okay. I don't want to feel their fake pity so don't give them the chance. Just stay quite and go with the almighty I'm fine... I'm fine... I'm fine... I'm fine... I'm fine... I'm fine... until one day I'm not going to be. I could lie or what if I don't. What if I let them hear. Would I be the mood-killer, would they even notice. What if I say that I am fine so much that they don't notice me when I'm not. What if they think I am lying, just doing it for attention. What if they stop hanging out with me and that painful emptiness just gets worse and more consistent. Save myself the trouble and just lie. They don't care and as long as they like me... I'm fine... right?
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School
School the place you go to just waiting for it to end. Your eyes never leaving the clock because that’s more entertaining than the blabbering teachers. The people that act as though they are your rulers and you must obey and believe everything they deed into your brain. Don’t even think about standing up for yourself because parents can be so much worse. School is like a war ground, fights, lectures, bullies, all until that clock strikes three and we can leave. The hot, crowded buses, the long car rider line, the line kids who sat forgotten at the lunch tables. Once Home the agonizing stress, anxiety, depression that comes with all those assignments that come crashing through your head at all hours of the day. But don’t even think about forgetting one, not doing one, failing one because if you even consider any of these the hell you experience at school comes to fuck up the rest of your life. You parents act as though you're a disappointment, failure, slacker when you can’t catch up with all the shit and disorders crowding your brain. They don’t see how much you are drowning, they just see a failure who can’t swim and instead of helping you. Maybe throwing you a raft they create waves. They create storms that throw you around like you are a piece of paper until you learn your place. Until you learn that you are nothing more than a grade. A number score that defines who you are and who you are going to be. If you can’t learn to swim than you get forgotten. You get left behind by all those who you thought loved you. If you slack of for even a day than you are seen as lazy, a failure who can’t get off their goddamn phone for even a minute to do your work. So you can make yourself swim and be that little puppet that everyone expects you to be or you can drown and be hated by everyone. There is no third option, there is no second chance. And once that weekend finally comes around it’s gone in an instant. When summer finally comes around it lures you into a false sense of security. Causing you to forget everything creating that hellscape every wretched year after wretched year. It doesn’t end, it doesn’t get easier, it just changes it’s looks and comes back the next year. And once you get a job you don’t get summers off, jobs never end until you are to old to live by yourself and your life is wasted away.
By Madisen Kirby6 years ago in Poets
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