Life’s been lethargic lately.

I’ve been running through the dust, scraping my heart on pieces of shrapnel and allowing myself to be captured by the lifelessness of my mind.

I have stopped thinking about the greater affairs in life, that there is something bigger than the sickness of my mind, that there is more to just myself and the world that I am so deeply involved in.

My mind works on keeping me in my bubble, trapped from the outside world. Inside, I am isolated, but outside, I am surrounded all of the love and care that I could’ve ever wanted.

My mind is tricking me, it is telling me to believe that I have nothing, I have no one.

But that’s a lie.

I am strong, yet so weak. My body is awake, but my mind is numb, and I am constantly speaking of the cold.

“I am so cold. I am so cold;

I have frozen, only love can thaw me.”

Why is it that I believe so fervently that I am alone? Will I be missed if I was to be gone?

Lately, I’ve stopped sleeping at night. I call it a cry for help, but it’s just a cry for sanity.

My mind has become a clockwork mechanism that is dumbfounded by my distress, by my inability to confront my happiness. My mind has begun to fear happiness, perhaps that is what makes me so lethargic.

Getting up has become a task of sorts, as life beyond my quilted sheets doesn’t seem like anything that I’d wish to be invited into.

I repeat words in incoherent murmurs, I shy awake from the truth so much so that people have begun to believe that lying is my second nature, but it is not.

I am afraid of accepting the lifelessness in my mind, I am afraid of telling people why my heart aches so mindlessly and continuously. I systematically avoid confrontation, I am a master at the art of disguise, I disguise my pain without a second glance.

Comfort is key, they say.

My comfort zone has engulfed me in rapid successions, I cannot breathe anymore, I cannot hear myself think; for comfort has strangled me, it has taken me to a place that I wish I had never visited.

I wish to free myself from the shackles of my mind, of my sadness and passion for pain. This place I have come to shows no sign of bringing me back to where I belong.

I am lost, never to be found.

I wish to escape this madness, I am a wildflower, I must bloom.

I must bloom.


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