Breathless

I can’t breathe.

I am suffocating.

Trapped in my own melancholia.

Wanting to get out yet not striving get out. Not striving to find the light.

I can’t breathe.

All the tears washes me away and drown me in an ocean of sadness with its waves hitting me.

All the pain swallows me.

All the hurt takes over me.

Everything pours down like rain,with the thunders of grief roaring and echoing and deafening me.

I can’t breathe.

I just want to lie down six feet under.

I want to breathe.

Yet I can’t.

Everytime I run away from the shadows, they follow me. They take over me, blinding that one ray of light that I always wanted to embrace.

I wanted to get out of this. Yet it seems as if it’s a maze that I can hardly get out.

I am weakened. I am tortured by my own fear of all the uncertainties.

I can’t breathe but it seems that I got used to it.

I got used to being alone.

I got used to being crippled by the heartaches that life strucked me with.

I got used to being in the darkness.

I got used to being in this sea of painful memories, that I just got along with the waves, bringing me wherever it wanted.

I got used to the asphyxiating breeze that carries me to the darkest corners of my immeasurable sadness.

I got used to not being able to breathe.

I got used to being suffocated.

What am I to do?

What should I do?

When everything around me is like masquearade.

Colorful.

Everyone smiles.

Everyone laughs.

Yet nothing is genuine. Not even my own smile.

I am tortured.

And I am getting used to it. That I myself fake my own happiness,.

GCDGP RN MD

19:58

28 March 2021