As If I Were to Stop
As if I were to care.
As if I were motivated.
As if I would have enough inside of me to listen to you.
As if I believed in myself.
And, most importantly, as I cared to simply care anymore.
I used to want to stop.
I used to a lot of things.
Life in itself does not matter, what I think doesn’t matter,
I don’t matter.
And then, some days, the self-hatred and the ‘not caring’ rolls into one big lump,
Going down my throat as what I had thought the non-existent tears roll down,
Down…down my face, dragging out the mask that I’ve worn so long that it feels like a second skin.
And you feel. You feel everything,
For once, you really do.
And worry consumes your mind, and anger consumes your physical body, and despairs claims your soul its own.
The numbness wears, and you yourself seem to tear right out the seam…
And, then— finally,
It starts over.
The rages continue outside of your very control, and stop explodes over and over in your mind.
Stop. It pleads.
Just for once: stop.
As if I were ever;