Bundle of Emotions

If I could tear out my soul

and hand it to you on a silver platter,

maybe you would understand the depth of my pain.

In a world of endless identities,

I am an endless mystery.

I do not cling to a definition nor want to spend my life

questioning who I am when I can just be.

Sometimes, all it takes is a short moment

of immersing ourselves in the suns warmth

and listening to the coos of mourning doves

to feel alive again.

Maybe this part of my journey

is not about filling

the dark, growing abyss in my chest

but to find hope and comfort in the vacancy.

When I go through drastic changes in life,

I wonder if death is a better option

than experiencing the uncomfortableness.

But is that what life wants from me?

Do I have a purpose to fulfill?

Am I meaningless?

Like seasons, I change.

From growth to decay,

I know what to expect when expected.

But when there is uncertainty

like snow or storms,

I stay inside and hide

because I'd much rather run away

than absorb the rain through my skin

or let the snow fall gently onto the tip of my nose.

What a bizarre way of thinking.

“When one chapter closes, another one opens.”

But is that really how life works?

A new chapter would require a plan;

it would require the main character to have some preparations.

But what if they don’t?

What if they don’t have the rest of their life set in stone?

I would like to think that maybe

there is a quiet, liminal space between chapters

where the character is still,

for an unprepared character

who sits with the eeriness of uncertainty

is a character who does not worry about the future.

You will figure everything out; you always do.

But even if you don’t, then maybe you’re not mean to, and that’s okay.

Some things in life are out of our control.

So, all we can do is release our worries and let things be.

It was that night

her eyes filled with tears and her soul grew tired.

She couldn’t understand why she felt the way she did,

but maybe, just maybe,

the aches and pains of loneliness and gloom

had finally caught up and consumed her.

There’s a part of me that wants to disappear

and never come back

and start a new life.

But no matter how fast I run or how far I go,

I’m still the same soul,

living in the same vessel,

dwelling on the same idea

over and over again.

Where do I go from here?

I thought losing you once was enough heartache for a lifetime.

But some mornings, you appear in my dreams,

and as the alarm clock rings,

I realize that I have lost you all over again.

Even when I want to escape the overwhelming life around me,

my mind still holds me hostage.

And one day,

I left my youthful spirit at the playground, never to return.

But deep down,

I hope my departure went unnoticed;

I hope that little girl is still running around and smiling.

I can’t remember the last time I watched

the clouds morph into different shapes and the sun paint the sky.

But often, I monitor rain storms, staring at each falling droplet

and listening to the subtle rumbles of thunder.

Maybe I am paying attention to the wrong things.

The truth is,

I must constantly remind myself that there is more to life

than what I have experienced, or else I may lose myself

dwelling on where I am and what I could be.

Secretly, I used to make excuses

for not reaching my goals,

for not taking risks,

for not changing my life.

But in reality, the only thing that has been holding me back,

for as long as I can remember,

is myself, my fear.

It eventually becomes exhausting to be the therapist in everyone’s life

because, at the end of the day, once they leave their problems with you,

you are left with the world on your shoulders

and a heaviness in your heart.

But the issues of others do not weigh me down.

In fact, it is the silence experienced afterward that makes me blue,

knowing no one will ever comfort me the way I comfort others.

When you avoid confronting the past long enough,

it will eventually come back to haunt you.

Memories may suddenly come flooding back, depriving you of vision.

On the other hand, familiar sounds and smells

may make quick, nostalgic appearances,

forever reminding you of what was.

I wonder,

is it better to sink into a sea of grief,

to deal with the past all at once,

or receive little signs from time-to-time of what you miss the most?