Shattered

My soul has stood silent for days
stunned back into hibernation by
the sudden loss of something inside
that I didn't know could be stripped away

I've fallen to my knees deep within myself
staring blankly at hands that must be mine
unable to identify with this vacant vessel
that seems to have changed while I wasn't watching

Everything is the same, yet jarringly different
a small, swift tectonic shift of self, shattering
the distorted funhouse mirror of my perspective
left standing transfixed by all the sparkling pieces

Too tired to try collecting every tiny shard
worse than empty, unable to be filled up again
maybe I'll just stay suspended here
in this slow, gawking numbness for now

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Unnecessary Need

I resent the need for community
the suffocation that settles over the soul
after prolonged periods of being utterly alone

I'm not presumptuous enough to suppose
that other people could ever value me
I wouldn't ask for what I don't deserve

The human condition is being put in the position
to require some amount of social support that
I am unwillingly compelled to pursue

I won't pray for things I haven't earned, that I am unfit for
all I ask is to be spared the pain of possessing
a basic need that always aches, but cannot be fulfilled

Please let the empty spaces satiate
fill me up with the silence beneath everything
make this loneliness enough for me

Different Shades of Loneliness

I don't know which is worse
to be truly and utterly alone
or to be alone with someone
who doesn't even see you

Is it really better to have a warm body
that can never bare witness to your soul
than to be emotionally and physically on your own
in this over-populated, under-connected world

there is a sickening angst that curdles inside
bitterness and resentment grow in the shadows
where the light of being known never touches
sometimes disregard stings worse than rejection

A fiery desperation to be acknowledged
the falling sensation of a love without foundation
an inner self left writhing under skin-crawling falsity
rising in rebellion against half-hearted affection

Disgust and denial say this cannot be salvaged
but fear leaves me lingering in the decaying doorway
memories of what I once thought this might become
daggers that flare up passion in a desolate heart

Nothing could be worse than the violence of indifference
stepping out from a shelter that blocks all possibility of sun
to submit myself to the endlessly overcast, unprotected sky
not knowing if storms will come or the sun will rise

Writer’s Block

For months now every time I sit down to write, I am overcome with a deep piercing pang of unworthiness. I heard someone say the other day that creating starts with believing that you have something worth sharing. This struck a chord within me. Maybe once I felt I had valuable input, interesting concepts to put forth into the world, but now? Now I feel empty. The longer I spend trying to come up with an idea, the worse I feel about myself as a writer, as a person.

Again and again this idea has been reinforced. I have nothing worth sharing. I’m embarrassed by the assumption that I might. I feel ashamed of the blank page in front of me, reminding me that I’m not enough. That blinking black line on an ocean of white is agonizing. What could be more painful than plumbing the depths of your soul and finding nothing?

This intense internal pressure never reaches a breaking point. There is no release from this ever tightening grip of anguish. Why does this vague desire to pour out my soul in colorful, living form not subside? When I try to pin down the essence of that longed for expression, there is nothing but smoke and shadow. There is nothing but a looming sense of emptiness, dusty bare walls of an empty room.

Intuition

Intuition is something
that I don't have.
I'm not even sure
what it means.
What do other people see
when they look inside?

Are signposts 
there to guide them?
For me,
it's murky inside,
a hazy cloud
of question marks.

When I ask myself
I am met with only echoes
bouncing back and forth forever.
Decisions are daunting
and never confidently made.
Doubt always lingers.

I'm told to trust myself,
but you can't trust a feeling
that isn't there.
It's murky inside of me,
so can you really blame me
for being scared? 

Change

I think it’s very interesting how many people I’ve heard say they don’t like change. I am one of them. Yet change is the only true constant in this world of ours. Without change none of us would even exist as we are. Just like with most things, it can be beautiful and also terrible. Just a few weeks ago I was quite excited about all the new changes that seemed to be happening in my life. Now as things continue to develop and change even further, I feel as though change is no longer a friend, but a bitter enemy.

At times like these I try to remind myself of all the changes in my life that initially felt unbearable, that ended up leading to some of my greatest joys. You can never really tell what even the smallest change may mean down the road. At the very least, it is an opportunity to practice letting go. Something I’ve never been very good at. I’m surprised my fingers are not just bloodied stumps from all the clinging I’ve done in my life.

One of the things I struggle with when facing an unpleasant change is whether or not to surrender to the sadness and pain that accompany it. I never know when I am just letting myself experience a healthy amount of painful emotions or when I am feeding those same emotions. Surely it isn’t healthy to turn away from every pang of the heart, but at the same time it is so easy to fall further into that deep dark hole that I’m still working to climb out of.

I suppose when I was younger there wasn’t much of a choice to be made. It was impossible to deny the feeling of raking claws across my chest, tearing at my tender heart. It seems like I used to cry so often as I was lying down to sleep at night. I never thought I could actually miss those awful moments of sorrow. Yet now I almost long to feel in the way that I once could. For years now, it has been nearly impossible for me to cry. It isn’t that I haven’t had reason to. The tears just don’t seem to come anymore. Instead of stinging eyes, now I only feel this strange gaping chasm behind my ribs, a terrible emptiness.

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The Stress of College

I am now more than half way through my first week back at West Liberty University. I am now only taking classes corresponding to my major or minor. I thought that this would give me some sense of relief from the overwhelming stress that I usually experience during the school year. However, I have had no such luck. I have barely been given any assignments thus far and already I am feeling myself caught in the undertow.

I think for many people, college is merely a mental challenge. I, on the other hand, have no problem keeping up with the material or scoring good grades on exams. The thing that makes college a challenge for me is the futility of it all. Luckily, I have been able to receive a full scholarship, but nonetheless, I still sit idly by year after year and watch hundreds of dollars disappear along with countless hours of my life. I just cannot seem to justify this to myself. Yet, I allow it to continue for lack of a better alternative.

I believe for truly intelligent students college can be emotionally exhausting. It is quite difficult to keep yourself interested in something that you feel is a scam and is not really aiding your development. There is no guarantee that a college degree will get me a job and certainly no guarantee that I will be happy with a job in my field even if I do get one. I mean, how are we supposed to know what type of job that we want to have for the rest of our lives straight out of high school? I don’t even know all of the jobs that are available, let alone what it would be like to work at any of them. Even in the best case scenario, college will hand me straight into the working world where I will toil the majority of my life away for just a bit more money than it takes to merely survive. I don’t want that. It is a devastating idea.

But what else am I supposed to do? I don’t have enough faith in my ability in anything else to give up a full scholarship to pursue. I don’t even have time to consider any alternatives because my college classes take up most of my time and energy. I feel as though I am trapped in a raging river heading toward a future that I cannot bear. There must be something better I could be doing with my precious youth. I don’t want to wake up one day full of regret, but what can I do?

Somedays I drown in the thought that I have nothing left to look forward to in my life and that my best days are now behind me. I wish that this country’s education system would have given me more of a chance. I have always felt as though I had something special to offer the world, but maybe I will never discover what that is.

Let me know what your college experience was/is like. How do you deal with such hopeless thoughts? I would gladly accept any ideas or advice.

Stay strong, sweet ones. ❤