I had been bottling up my feelings recently.
Felt great to have the power it had given me.
Silence had become my security to survive;
But little did I know, it had started exhausting me.
I had always struggled with expression.
I wish I knew better.
"How much is too much?"
I wish I asked myself sooner.
Trust to me came easily.
The strength of words was inevitable for me.
But I expected to be fixed by people,
who needed fixing desperately.
What was naive of me,
I thought of it to be prejudice against me.
Yet a part of me must've believed,
That someone out there could just be there for me.
I have always felt deeply.
Letting my emotions take charge completely.
It was the only thing that made me feel alive.
The fact that no one is truly okay, then, unbeknownst to me.
Little by little, I reverted into the comfort of my own being.
Feeling for seconds, stone cold instantly.
Am I truly okay? I don't really know.
But I picked up the pieces, I helped me grow.
The hypocrisy still stands strong.
A race in the pursuit of happiness.
But there is one thing that became clear with the unravelling storm.
Living by seeking validation cannot fix what’s truly broken.