for the last decade
of my screams,
I have forgotten the hang
of how words
can echo back
to the ossuary-
wherein lies my battered self;
bleeding wet cacophony
on the gravestones
of my suicidal whims…
my limbs fold in
to form a self-carved
thrown at me,
as I tried to crawl
through abyss of
in a heartbeat;
I remained as a stigma
I see many motivational speeches and uplifting words. I read many quotes and people’s experiences. I hear a lot of people talking positivity and pushing forth people to quit being negative. Heck, I myself sometimes falsify people into believing that the world is all bright and golden if only we open our eyes and look.
I am a mess and I keep messing it all up. One minute, I am fine, I am good, I breathe normally and engage in activities, feel ok. The next minute, I am a mess, feel bulky, heavy, feel all the fat around me weight me down. Guilt, for that last meal which was dinner but nonetheless the guilt for eating it. Hating myself and blaming others for not being able to stick to my plan or at least do as I wanted to do. Questioning myself why… so many why’s that I am freaking tired of it.
The sadness. Intense sadness of being alone in a world full of people. Intense loneliness when I am all but surrounded by millions of people. Not understanding why I am being left out of the crowd when I have nothing wrong done. Hating and despising the way I should count my words before I say that. Hating and hating myself for strutting and not being able to say what I want to like I want to. Hating and hating so much for not being able to be productive and do something in order to achieve something in my life.
I have always been locked down. Either by rejection, discouragement, mockery or by some other means. I have never been bullied because I reacted violently back and thus I am a person who is feared by everyone. Because of my size, my actions sometimes feel like a jackhammer to them and their simple words like, “Come on, just because you don’t realize it, it doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt. I am scared when you come close to me.” Not intentionally anyway, but it happens. They say this with a laugh or smile and I smile back. However, they don’t realize I am hurting inside because like I said, I can’t freaking control my actions and it hurt. Deeply.
Sometimes, I am this overly happy bubbly mess which gets appreciated and clapped hands while sometimes I am this virus; being ignored by all. All in all, I am not someone who people like to hang out much with. They don’t like taking selfie’s with me, they don’t really engage their time with me. And I wonder and wonder and freaking wonder why and what was that I did wrong.
I so strongly decide to ignore all and be just myself. But the gaze, the inside smile, direct laugh to my face and direct insult or indirect mockery; kills me. Plainly and adamantly. Kills me.
What do they know about the demons I fight daily? The depression that they don’t know. The sadness and loneliness that they don’t realize. The pain I have to go through just because I am fat, and… why? I don’t know.
I just want to be normal and be happy and talk and laugh like normal people does. But sometimes I am pulled deeply into my depression, anxiety, and sadness that I forget to be lively, cheerful and happy for their sake and guess what? Few to none only realize I am missing my usual self.
I have lost count of how many times I cry myself in front of mirrors in public gatherings and come out missing myself. And people don’t even bat an eyelash even if they realize something is wrong with me.
Am I too stupid for thinking it all? How can I conclude myself? There are even more that I want to say and just scream. But I am blank and that scares and angers me. I want to say, period. But, no, I am just shaking myself and seething with anger. Even a single sound of something around me gets me mad. I am a mess and I am just getting messier!
I have forgotten
the hang of writing poetry
as I master my craft
in silencing vowels from breaking out
and taming restless hurricanes in my eyes.
the crumbs dripping from my fingers
form a trail behind my
crafting shapes on stained papers,
and the leftover residue
mocks my game
as I crawl behind ellipses.
black petals sprouts
between the cracks in similes,
but I stop at no cost
plastering fake metaphors
at every distinguished rest stops
to mask miseries.
and if yet you are unable to decipher
the depth in the folds of my stare
that ricochet on empty barrels;
you simply speak words
that holds no feelings,
since my words have stopped forming sentences
to ears that hold a smile
the winged imagery
on my fragile eyes
that have seen worst storm
than my recent smoky synopsis,
died at the right curve
where my crinkles
could never reach
yet, I tried to powder
too many lines
worth mentioning on my forehead
to make it look weak,
with fewer metaphors-
to grandeur the already dead soliloquy;
but the color on my lips
take the audience away,
the bright show stopper
arch into a killer smile
that have mastered the
skill of creating an enigma
enclosed in marble stilettos
I have walked in angles
that doesn’t bend to solve
and now that I have resumed
walking after the crash
in metered sonnets,
I have ever since raised the number
on my jacket;
each a tattoo of violent hurricane
Only emptiness. The kind where even shadows hide behind the darkness. I can feel it in my bones as I watch the world goes by. My friends and families, they are fluid. Happy. Talking. Moving. They don’t stop neither are they stopping. They move. I can feel it as I watch the silver gates open and close, for traffic and they transcend.
But I, I stop. I survive each second. I breathe, I inhale and scream. But only a moment has passed by. I sit by, arms folded, tears leaking and watch the world. Ten years have gone by and they have made a family, existence, life. While I am still nowhere in the vortex. I don’t even know where they exit are.
Somewhere in the echo, I hear a voice. The silver catastrophe soothing me in between darkness that I am where I am to be, I can win only when the time comes and I will win like no other but it’s been years since I have heard the same monologue. I can’t even answer back.
I scream into nothingness. But my throat goes sore and heart inflates, aching. I rub myself to stop crying but my legs bounce on its own, unable to hold it in. I am fat and disguised but I can’t stop eating and the reason why is; don’t you dare judge me.
You don’t know depression and illness. You don’t get depressed when you break up with someone and you can move and talk around. You don’t get depression if something bad happened and you can process like ever before. You don’t get to know what depression is if you are capable of pulling yourself out from the bed and drink water. You don’t get to feel and know its depth unless you have felt the deep pain in between your collarbones and ribcage.
The feeling of emptiness and darkness combined suffocates and no amount of crying yourself to sleep will help you gather your atoms and walk on. You will end up with a migraine. I ended up in a migraine and the doctors couldn’t find the reason why I am complaining of it every single time I visit him for he knows of the medical term why and when a migraine occurs but my hormonal imbalance and emotional barriers are so shaken up that I couldn’t control myself. I…
Hope seems so far away. Faith keeps me sane. Mother makes me want to stay strong. God makes me want to challenge myself to win. But, I am a single soul with a burdened body. I am not strong enough or powerful enough to swim through another hurricane to challenge myself to see where this is going. I am done being strong. I can’t anymore…
I… have been in this movie for quite some time that the official timing has passed by but my script is nowhere near an end. Nor, does anyone knows how this is going to be concluded. But, I believe sometime in the future it will and I can’t wait anymore.
I wish if I could drag time by a thread and make it come to me earlier than expected, but I know my wishful thinking can’t make me, won’t help me and… I am stuck… I feel like screaming but the physical pain has shackled me up in between overused metaphors and unsaid words. I want to but I can’t. I…
There she stands in the outer edge corner, shadowed by her comrades, laughing at the joke that was displayed like a medusa head about her pot bellied expression of witless dreams and stained memories that lost its luster with too many sweets.
Once everyone turns to encore the moving articles around them, a tiny colorless melody drips from her eyes that have met and seen many intricate colored metaphors for her lifetime to suck her dry. She wipes it away without disturbing the graceful black stroke that has outlined her mirror; with the color of her soul.
And she stands, with her hands crossed and legs slightly titled like a moon unsure of how he should come out for the party tonight. Her dress hangs loose and the stretched her already curved impression making her hard to breathe as the hues in front of her laugh; choking her to death.
She dances in the bathroom mirror, squeezing arrhythmic steps into her overloaded heart and the beat just jarred the cacophony even further.
Yet, with her renewed makeup and strength; she rises like a phoenix with a smile to kill soldiers in their best armor. Yet, when alone in the sanctuary of her confinements, she lost all her lustrous rhinestones to the sky who cried with her that night.
Everyone admired the starry skies.