herlucidlife

I don’t know how I feel. I feel off balance when he texts but I feel guilty for making you hurt.Way past hurt, devastation isn’t even in the paragraph. I don’t want to deal with the destruction because I don’t know how to make it better. I’m unsure what to heal first, the hole from destroying you or the guilt from happiness. 

I’ve blocked out how you feel, how you make me feel. I ignore that side of life assuming it’s water under the bridge and maybe it is but for some reason the water keeps rising. Feeling evil is an understatement, more I feel like a devil in brown skin. Not wanting to make myself too important in your life, I refuse to overlook the responsibility. 

How do I juggle being guilty and at peace, feeling like the two can’t live in the same body. Guilt has always been a close companion, hiding in my shadows. But peace has always been hard to find, coming with a price that often has been too high. Struggling with gaining peace from God, my own supply often runs wilted. Never been the one to act like things never happened but lately I’ve been purposely sightless. 

I wanted to be transparent with you but fear led my speech I just couldn’t lean in. Hypocrite a coward. I want you to be open while I can’t even fathom telling you the deepest desires of my heart. I lie to myself thinking “he’s dealing with a lot, why would I spew my mess onto him.” When really I’m too nervous, too shy, too jittery not of rejection but fully being vulnerable means I’ll be even closer to you. I’m too attached as is, any more attachment would be detrimental to my mental. 

I’m not sure, I’m not well, some days I don’t know how to feel, while others clearness enters my mind just for it to fall mirky when night falls. I don’t want your presence to penetrate my aura, yet somehow you slide by every single time. Maybe your existence is wrapped into my aura, what if you never leave any part of my being ? Perhaps you’re woven in like wool, too warm to not hold tight. I’m unsure, the guilt wraps like a blanket over my life, ignoring the holes in my heart is like walking into a minefield ready to be destroyed. 

Bittersweet, life feels more real than I’ve ever fathomed it could be, five years on autopilot coasting through life, kooky how injury can bring you back down to earth. Though unsure I’ve never felt more in touch with myself, with my emotions, not belligerent, sober minded I’m all in. My life, my love, my being is a spectrum and it’s scary to think that I was trying to remove myself from that rainbow. Alarming to think that I didn’t love my mind that I had to escape through intoxication of inhalation. 

Sad, I sometimes long for that girl that was lifted far from reality, she was fraudulently blissful. Smiling through pain because only she knew she was wasting her life away. I miss her sometimes, yet even she would long for something even remotely real in herself because she longed for her emotions to be felt deeply. 

But for now I’ll sit feeling unsure because even that is better than feeling nothing at all.