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Ink Feelings

"Here we go again..."

By Jessica RasilePublished 6 years ago 2 min read

Here we go again.

The same place we've been many times before, but I'm starting to believe words aren't enough anymore.

I spill my soul out through this ink and all it does is slap me in the face with the truth.

No choice except having to face and deal with it once it's all written down.

These words don't bring me the same freeing presence they did before.

I'm starting to think it's a curse, being able to twist my emotions into words that make them seem nicer than they are.

All these feelings with no release.

No outlet.

They just linger and continue to cloak me in sadness, smothering me, keeping more and more of the light out till I'm surrounded in darkness.

Like the breath leaving my lungs when your avoidance wraps it's tight grip around my neck, not letting me scream.

God knows how much I'm aching to do that.

My eyes sting from all the unshed tears kept locked away.

I think I may have lost the key because it seems no matter how much I try to will the feelings out of my eyes and down my cheeks, they stay stuck.

Trapped, like my sorrow into my soul.

No escape or freedom from these self created demons.

It doesn't end.

A constant war in my mind between my heart and my head.

Both telling me the same things, but one knowing better.

One knowing that if I don't protect that little girl inside me and let go of all the things that cannot be changed, I'll drown.

I'll drown and never be found.

Gone forever.

The sight of me will only be alive in memory, for the only thing that will be left is my body.

A shell that once held who I was, and all the potential of who I could have been.

I need to cut ties with all the things I know and start over.

Re-learn my entire life.

Remind myself that I'm the writer, and if I don't like the story, I get to change it.

But where's the switch to the light that once shone bright guiding my will to fight?

The one that shone into my past, erasing the transgressions they hold.

Where's the star, the one that will lead me home?

Back to a place where I can regain control before it's too late.

I know the story can't end like this, but I don't even know where I'd begin rewriting.

Which way do I go?

All I know is that lately all things end just like this.

Here, with the blood of my words spilling out of my pen and staining the paper in ink.

sad poetry

About the Creator

Jessica Rasile

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