The Voice Of Desperation

It's cloudy again..... I tried very hard to stir through this.. through the clouds to reach clarity .. to relive my childhood... Somehow this cloud follows me... It is as if the cloud lives in me. No matter how much I try it is there. I try to shout .. out loud for help. But my voice couldn’t reach beyond this cloud, that seems to surround me. It keeps circling me, haunting me, and reminding me of my forgotten past.

I can now just hope to have been treated well. To be loved .. to be heard ... Just to be understood... But I know those are just my way of "all is well" to keep my inner child alive. To keep her safe from getting hurt again, to keep her safe from getting scared again, to save her from the feeling of not being anyone's priority again. It's hard because she is rebellious, she is carefree, and wants to break out, spread love and enjoy, it's hard for the scared me to tame her, it's hard to fool her anymore. 

That child asks too many questions, she is too curious to get out and be pampered and not just to pamper the other. She is getting way too difficult for this tired, scared, and wounded soul to handle anymore. 

I am scared, that if I let her out again and if I lose her this time, I might just lose her forever. I might never be able to get her back. She loves Steve Rogers and his "I can do this all day". But I doubt that this time she cannot, this time I can see her broken smile. Her stubbornness of "I can do it all day" will be the death of us. 

I do believe in her though... however, I don't believe in anyone else, no one understands her, she is always misunderstood, used, picked last, or just because they have to. I can just hope for a better life for her in her next life. I guess by society's standards she is too much to handle.

She just craves attention, not much just enough so that the mean voices in her head could shut up for once... She doesn't want anything big, just a walk or coffee or toffee. Or sometimes, something as cheap as just appreciation or acknowledgment. She jumps with joy if you remember her favorite food, or just mention a plan for visiting her. Her weeks would go about filled with gratitude for you, that you being so busy thinking about coming such a long way and meeting her.

It feels so exhausting to keep up with her when I am trying to clench every possible itsy-bitsy memory of our childhood, that " wo suhane din" for her. Those suhane din seems to be slipping away into a void, all I can grip onto are the pieces that gave her those scars. The worst part is I cannot just end it, even if every inch of my body is begging me to. I'm tired of fighting all the time with my body, my mind, and my heart, and still putting on a smile and performing an act called "life" just to satisfy my parents. Who by the way cannot even see the struggle their daughter is putting up with every single second?

I can feel them all, I can hear their dreams, their desires, their wants, I feel so helpless, just a dead soul with nothing to offer. The child in me just wants to live, freely, happily, and pampered... The body is too tired and just wants to end it all... And my mind, oh poor poor mind, she is just torn, she puts up with the heart and her childish acts, the body, and her tantrums, as well the urge to end it... And more importantly society, specifically her parents, keeping up the facade of processing life... To be exact "happy life".

It's called "overthinking"... People have said. Why overthink just sleep, or stop thinking so much... My brain just sits there replaying her "job" towards the body, which is in a constant loop of ending it all... Her "job" towards the heart, to keep her safe.. because God knows if the child gets hurt again we will lose everything, everything we have worked towards will fall apart. It's her job, the mind is overworked, just to keep them afloat. She just wants to survive, not even looking forward to life. Just keep the heart from getting scared again and keep the body alive. I just don't want to be strong anymore... I just wanna let loose without the fear of being hurt, knowing I'm protected. Fat is not strong, I'm tired of being strong, for once I wanna just be protected.