Rough Night

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic

I get it's sometimes hard. Remember that you are not alone. It might really feel like it, that no matter if you cry out your lungs, it won't get better. I haven't made it far enough to say that it will get better, but I'm hoping with you.
~No matter the colour and look of the beetle in your mind, you deserve to think it's beautiful. Your thoughts
and the fact that you are alive.~
If you're struggling, find someone you can talk to even if you think they won't understand. Get it out somehow. Write a story or a poem. Put it on a piece of paper and then through that paper away.

In the dead of night,
I touch my forehead
trying to contain
the pain and emotion
that we all experience.
I touch my chest
trying to feel
the brokenness and terror
that we all handle
recklessly.
It feels like nothing
then something
The thought of a person
or the wish of a naive mind.
It falls
The glass with the liquid
Spilling the salty water
all over the floor
our shirts and ties.
We feel the shock moving
to our hands that try to mould
Then all of everything
Until the container fills like 
a fish tank.
We hold on through the
eruption of ice
and the utter coldness of space.
We come so close to freezing.
The faint glowing fragile flickering system
being tempted to shut down
Vibrating with deadly despair
doubting the distance of your demise.
You clutch your hands closely together
trying to grasp something
but it seeps out like sand
in an hourglass...
I hear my breathing
overflow my ears
Leaking out for help
Somehow you think
it will never come
even as you try.
Things will never be understood
unless the beholder tries to understand
by creating your own definition.
And then from cold to hellish heat.
You pull out your hair, 
You want to take off the things
that supposedly keep you warm
that keeps you with society
That makes you feel normal.
But you stop.
Because after every attack
there is a respite
a moment where you find

the marble miraculously meets a
balance on a tiny thin temporary twig.
We all usher you to push onward.
No matter the despondent ness
No matter the shaking of your body.
Hold on to hope.
Hope on to make it through
to find yourself and
to know that you can allay,
You have an aegis that contains all of you.

I care.


Submitted: June 12, 2020

© Copyright 2021 Dreaming Mango. All rights reserved.

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