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It's Just One Of Those Days
I cannot make the words come out.
I cannot translate these thoughts into a language that
anyone can understand.
Living in my head is a heaven in hell;
the one place I can't escape,
the one thing I can't hide from.
I feel like I'm trapped in this body and limited,
when I (we) just want to break out
and be set free..
It's a constant mosh pit of emotions,
rubbing and smashing into one another.
If I'm not, then there is always someone thinking in my head.
Always functioning...
Always wondering...
Always dreaming...
Always screaming...
Always begging me for my attention...
Always dragging me into its colorful pit of bittersweet confusion..
A whirlwind of insecurity,
A storm of questions,
A yearning to know why...
Why can I not answer these questions based upon myself that I of all
people should know...
They say that no one can know you better than yourself..
But that's hard when you are more than one..
When "yourself" consists of many pieces to a puzzle that do not fit each other..
Thus, being because these pieces do not belong to one individual puzzle,
But to many individual puzzles with their own unique pictures, pieces, and thoughts..
When will all the pieces fit?
Do I really want to solve this puzzle?
Will I ever?
Or am I destined to remain scattered, unsolved, and abstract?
© Rachel Aleta Livingston
