Thursday, 2 April 2015

It's 3:08 in the morning

The light from the glow in the dark stars on my ceiling are slowly fading as the darkness creeps in and the silence amplifies every sound in this cold room. I feel trapped in an abyss with the voices in my head, slowly creeping in, murmuring in strange languages I can barely understand and uttering words that sounded like spells to awaken my greatest fears.

What if everything I do will never be good enough? 

What if I will never be capable of reaching my full potential?

What if I am eternally bound to remain on the same ground and watch the world spin from a distance?

What if I cause more suffering to everyone I love?

My thoughts run rampant with vivid images of my dark past and the future I am hoping for. I always push myself beyond the limits and I always do my best but I always fall short of what I am expected to reach and I keep on being the odd one out. I feel like my old scars are ripped open, my insides torn out and all my flaws are laid out, and everything gets uglier every second. I keep on tossing and turning to hide away from these thoughts, but every inch of my room is forcing me into despair and I have nowhere to hide.

It's 3:08 in the morning.

Maybe my thoughts are powerful because I am too tired and vulnerable to keep my demons at bay. 

It's dark, silent and cold, but I am still hoping for a bright, warm and hopeful day.

1 comment:

  1. As a prose/poem this is most powerful, raw and clean , direct and immediate
    (I notice you don't have a followers gadget,btw.).

    ReplyDelete