AmarachiAkubuiro

‎There's so much noise

‎In my heart.

‎It's trying to break free,

‎But I hold it still.

‎If I let it flee,

‎would it kill

‎the whole world?

Heyy,

If you've been visiting my inner world,

you may think it's all black and white.

But I've got a room,

a hall…

Filled with colours,

colourful flowers,

colourful paintings,

butterflies here and there.

But the room only opens

‎I once read a post

‎that said, "get out of your head.

‎But how can I leave

‎when 'she' has me caged?

‎Even if I break free,

‎she glued a leash

‎to my neck.

‎She's a busy highway,

‎so even if I try to run

‎without calming her first,

‎one of the trucks

‎would crush my spine.

‎Only my friend,

‎the one that dances

‎with the moon and stars,

‎knows how to calm her down.

‎But he doesn't last,

‎so once sun comes up,

‎I'm back in again.

‎Am I a puppet of my mind,

‎Or is she my puppet?

‎

‎Does she make me think these things,

‎Or do I feed her what to think?

‎

‎All these things she says to me...

‎All these things she shows me...

‎

‎Are you saying I have little to no power

‎to make her stay quiet?

‎‎Why can't I control her

‎if she's really mine?

@amychuks

I think I've bottled up a lot,

that my heart now burns for no reason.

I've put up with a lot,

that I now cry,

even when nothing hurts.

I don't know what this feeling is,

but could it be triggered by the things I've locked up...?

I want to scream at the night,

because she understands.

I want to yell at my mind,

because she opposes me.

But if I do these,

I'm just going to be

another one yet to roam the road.

Aren't I...?

The stars stay with the night through dark times.

Would you be my star...?

I had an amazing conversation —

not with the night,

not with my mind,

but with a stranger.

It’s never been so quiet,

so quiet up there.

My usually chatting mind

spoke not,

just so she could listen

to the stranger.

I told him things —

not things my mind wanted me to say,

but things I wanted to say.

@Amarachi Akubuiro

I slept in my room,

and when I woke up,

I was in a dark space

filled with doors and nothingness.

I opened one door —

happy memories came flooding in.

At that moment,

I knew the dark space

was my mind.

I wanted to open another.

A voice — desperate — said not to.

It begged me not to.

I still did.

In that room were memories,

memories I didn’t remember.

They were sad,

like I forced myself to forget them.

And now, I did it.

I opened the forbidden.

Since I opened this door,

I can no longer leave,

get out of this dark space.

Now I’m stuck,

aimlessly wandering around,

replaying and replaying the videos,

the movies kept behind that door.

It’s like I’m in a never-ending loop.

@AmarachiAkubuiro

My mind is alive.

My mind is her own person.

We do not coexist or correlate.

I feed her optimism, and she throws up pessimism.

She has a workspace

Where she paints white black.

@AmyChuks

"Death is not always the end of life. It's also the start of a new beginning"

So...., where is MY new beginning?

Or have I not waited long enough for it?

Or is the past not yet dead?

Why am I everywhere but nowhere at the same time?

“Your hands are sticky, go wash them.” “Okay, your hands are neat now. Once you close the hole on the net, you’ll sleep.” “Someone is watching you.” “You need to lock the doors.”

But I already did.

“Lock them — you did not. Go, go… lock them. Turn the gas off too. Count the pencils to make sure they’re complete so one doesn’t stab you and make you bleed. Look around to make sure no one is watching you… even the smallest sound can disturb you.” “You know… you should’ve stabbed his palm earlier today. He upset you.”

All these thoughts, all day and night. Brushing against foam — the smallest sound, even a light touch, a light feel — it disturbs me. It’s unbearable. Sought for help.“These pills would help.” “They’ll stop the thoughts.” “Also regulate your emotions.” “No hyperactivity too.” “Isn’t it great?”

Yh… right. There’s no activity. None. But… but I just wanted relief… why leave me with one face forever?

I was talking to the night,

my best friend.

I felt the cool breeze pass through me;

it didn’t touch me — it went right through me.

That made me cry.

The night asked if I was sad.

I said no.

Then he asked why I cried.

Then I said:

“I felt the breeze pass through me.

My tears were not shed because of

sadness,

anger,

pain,

joy.

But because I felt empty.

Like an empty room, unoccupied for years

And the feeling of emptiness didn’t make me sad —

it made me… ahhhhhh… still emptiness.”

It made me realize how numb I’ve gotten.

Struggling for air

It's like I'm buried alive

Trying to catch my breath, but it's like the air vanished

Ohh, how I hate tight spaces

Tight corners

Little spaces

So scary

So suffocating

But, guess what...

I crawled into one on my own

Now I can't breathe

My head is a tight space

A tight corner

And I'm in it

I went in willingly

Knowing how suffocating it is

And now I'm struggling to cope

Hoping I can get out of it

Back to fresh air

Back into a wide space

Can't wait to have the world for myself

The silent rustling of leaves....

A child's cry from a distance.....

The sound of wind swooping up dust....

The sound from moving vehicles....

A road side performer singing......

The sound of footsteps—people dancing......

My own voice too....., my inner voice....

Someone in front of me is speaking to me too..., but I can't hear them.....

Hearing everything at once but nothing at the same time.....

It's like a carnival up here...

Not the exciting, fun, colourful and music filled part part...

But the chaotic, exhausting, noisy, and overwhelming part....

The pain, noise, sadness, loss, behind the laughter and fun.

Carnivals aren't always fun.

Up here, it's like a mental carnival

@AmarachiAkubuiro

I'm so forgetful. I forgot how to be me.

I don't care anymore. Not even about me.

But still...I don't want to give up...I want to remember what it means to be me.

I care but the feeling is flat

I know I love, but I don't feel it and I don't know why.

I feel everything at once and later, it disappears. I know I still care and love, but.....but.......I can't even explain.

Numbness is a language I borrowed for protection, and now I can no longer speak my mother tongue—care, love.

I can't speak nor understand them but I think I know them.....I think I do...I hope they don't go extinct before I can learn it.