I seem to always get lost.
In dark thoughts.
Doubt.
Stress.
In other people.
I take all that I am.
Put it in a little box.
And leave it somewhere.
God knows where.
And then I walk around.
An empty shell of a person.
Mechanical.
Lifeless.
Dead.
But the me that I put away.
Screams at me.
Begs for me.
Claws at me.
And you can only turn a blind eye for so long.
But how do you fill yourself with something that you’ve neglected for so long?
How can you integrate the then with the now?
I am scared that I lost too much.
That I pushed too much of myself and other people away.
I am scared to open that box.
Cos what if it doesn’t want me back?
And I’m tired of always saying this.
That I get lost.
Boohoo.
Why am I still this desperate child.
Wanting to be noticed.
Wanting to feel like I am something.
I don’t want to be numb anymore.
Don’t want to make others happy.
When I am not at all.
And I’m tired of saying I’m not happy.
Cos what I have is what others dream about having.
I’ll have to go and find that box.
And let him out.
Cos without him I’m lost.
Without him I’m someone else.