Breaking Point

Decided to publish more of my old stuff. I might just turn this into a series of my old stuff haha.

I wrote this back in junior year in high school. The issue doesn’t bother me at all now, and the guy in the poem and I are really good friends now. It was mostly in my head anyway haha. But at the time it was pretty real and consuming. I woke up in the middle of the night, and I felt so bad that I got up just to start writing – and I don’t really do that. 

Hanging on to the paper thin possibility

‘Cause I have no guts to fall into reality

I’d rather drink the sweet poison of a lie

Than swallow the truth that makes me die

 

With the last flare I walked through the grand ball

Dressed as well as one and all

I danced and danced to catch your eye

But you neither said hello nor good-bye

 

Rivers are cried and hopes are blown out

I chain my wrists and stitch my mouth

Build whatever dam it takes to contain

The tsunami of misery and of pain

 

But no, I can fool myself no longer

I break and I wish I were stronger

The mask I wear is worn and old

And I do not plan to form another mould

 

The feeling is so familiar; it’s all I’ve ever known

To force a grin, my hurts never shown

Of course I’m happy when I know that you are too

But I can’t stop myself from feeling the way I do

 

Just like I have finally learned joy

I now know what it’s like to cry for a boy

Not any of the wisdom that I have gained

Can remedy what I have done in vain

 

I swear I am on the brink of insanity

And the thought has some hospitality

Like a car crash my world is shattered

And now I float in cold space where nothing matters

 

Thorns envelope my bruised skin

And my heart bleeds from within

A rejected mummy pushed from the verge

And rescued only by the predator birds

Emotions

It’s easy to let yourself go on a roller coaster ride of emotions if it makes sense.

Someone you love passed away? Cry it out. An injustice was done to you? Scream and fight. You failed? Let yourself wallow in self-pity. Just met the boy of your dreams? Spin around in circles of joy.

But what about if the feelings don’t make sense? You just had the best day of your life and you feel sad. Someone hasn’t been treating you right, and you worry for the other person. You just underwent the most grueling experience you’ve had in a while, and you feel nothing. Or justice has been served and you got what you understood you’d get… and then you leave the room with a trembling lip and the serious need to go to the girl’s room and cry.

And, particular in the last case, the sane part of you is scolding the other side of you. “Grow up.” “You’re being irrational.” “Nothing bad even happened.” “You’re wasting your tears.” “Doing this will gain you nothing.” “This isn’t you.” “How are you going to get through life if this keeps happening?”

Yeah, okay. We’re human. We are emotional beings. Emotions are important. Emotions are beautiful, and meaningful. But in this fragile little case of spontaneous shallowness, where is the meaning?

I kept asking myself that as I kept my head down and dashed to the washroom – as if it might make a difference in keeping the tears at bay. I couldn’t believe I was even crying. I had my heart broken and I didn’t even shed a tear. I’ve undergone worse pressures and looked at failure and judgment straight in the eye and I didn’t cry then. I’ve had consecutive bad days and endless frustrations, and I still kept smiling, laughing and keeping on. What made now so much different?

I didn’t want to be “that girl” who people see crying and then wonder about – “Is she okay?” “Should I approach her?” “Does she need to talk anything out?” Because I have nothing the fudge to say. And I have nothing the fudge to even be legitimately upset about.

And I fear it’s going to keep getting worse. I’ve been like this kinda recently. I don’t even know what the matter is. I miss the calm and the quiet and the stillness. I wonder if it’s hormones. I wonder if it’s generally lack of discipline. I wonder if it’s me being taken out of the rational waters I swam and flourished in for four years. Is it social influence? Or have I been reading too many overly dramatic Facebook posts from people who I know act like this?

There used to be sanctity in my mind. The world would be full of drama and emotions and unnecessary complications. I was the safe zone. I was the little corner of reality that made sense and could keep still and could look at things coolly, wholly, objectively. Detachedly. There were no weird strings that were being tugged in weird directions by weird cogs. That seems to be changing. And I fear I may then lose my independence. And I fear I may then become lonely. And I fear it might stay that way.