𝐋𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫

I want the truth.

I always knew when something bad was going to happen. I could feel it in my knees and my stomach. I battle to know the reason behind the sudden change in my demeanour. I pray that it’s nothing. Lump in my throat , heaviness in my chest and soreness in my body. I feel trembled before the disastrous moment happens and nothing but fragile, tore and empty afterwards. I watch her I study her expressions I memorised them. I learnt to notice when she was overwhelmed, when her thoughts were scattered, when she was reaching the edge. However, Im still looking for a way to rescue her. I often find myself starring into nothingness blocking the screams and cries coming out of our room. Mom just hugged her, she did the only thing she knows the best. Sometimes she wanted to take her back inside her womb to end for once and all the misery. I wanted to cry, to scream my lungs out, i wanted to shout and curse the world. All what came out was a trembling smile. I used to feel happy when it was night time. Now even darkness can’t hide me. I strive for peace. For calmness. For her to be better, to have our usual fights and not to be scared if she will collapse because she is to weak to handle any sort of emotions. For her to be healthy enough to walk and run without the dizziness kicking off. For her to be able to laugh and actually mean it. Our bond is so strong I can sense the depths of her soul. And it’s screaming for help…

I’m limited, Im bound to rules I can neither figure nor break. Im suffocated. I’m trapped in my own rigid existence. My heart is heavy and It’s breaking my ribs. I can no longer find comfort in my own misery. I ve been robbed of that very sentiment that makes me what I am. My core has been replaced by nothing but dust. I’m so heavy i can drown in my own bed sheets. I want to liberate myself, but then again I refuse. I keep lingering in my own thoughts. Ripping my cells insides to pieces. Some people write in hope they find connection with themselves. I write in hope someone my stumble upon them and say “ I have come to rescue “. I used to write, and when I did that it made me fly. Then words were too much for me. Each letter cost me something. I longed for peace so i gave it all up.

Ur existence is a proof that a generations of your face have been loved..