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This is the hurting. 

This is the healing. 

I used to hear these words all the time in my head,

I still do. 

In a way we all do. 

We all hear that jiminy cricket voice in our head, 

whispering that what we are doing is hurting 

or what we experience is healing. 

Sometimes we hear the hurting more than the healing. 

In my mind, 

I find it hard to believe the ripping feeling in my chest, 

the breathless steps I take, 

and the agonizing feeling of a heartbeat

is healing. 

Healing is being able to smile at those who've wronged you and say:

"I forgive you." 

I've smiled and I spoke...

but I never really meant it. 

On the other side, 

my truest healing came with tears. 

I cried, and screamed, and begged...

and then I forgave. 

I took the one who did the most hurting, 

and I smiled through the tears and said:

"I forgive you." 

That was the healing. 

This is the hurting. 

All these words are bottled up, 

begging for release. 

I can scream to the heavens but at the end of the day, 

this hurt wont dare look me in the eyes. 

Melancholy hits the hardest when you're in the dark. 

Sometimes you go to sleep smiling, 

and wake up suffocated by the invisible hands 

of hurt. 

These are my first steps; 

I know you'll never truly face me, 

you'll keep hiding. 

And I'm okay with that. 

That is your hurting, 

This is finally my healing. 

Requiem

Am I truly a good person?

I try and I try and I try
but each time I fall into the same patterns.
Holding my tongue when words demand to be said,
bottling everything up until I explode.

Every time I think I've moved past my scars
I find new words hidden between the pages of my past,
your stench lingers on everything you've touched...
including me.

Does being a good person mean I need to shut up and let you go...
does it mean I'm allowed to do what I wish so that my demon
will leave me.

Goodness is subjective.
In ones eyes I am good,
in another I am evil.
To one pair of eyes I can be both at once.

Am I still good if I give in to my urge to heal?

I don't want to cling to your memory,
I wish to rid you from it all.
To stop feeling so angry and bitter about your presence,
more than anything I want nothing more than to scream and cry;
shaking you by the collar until I see those eyes widen.
I so desperately want you to know how fucked you've made me.

My reality is no more.
I'm constantly playing pretend,
holding onto the idea that I was used.

Because at the end of the day that's all I was to you,
a toy.

I once asked you what would you do,
if the day came that I had outlived my usefulness...
would I just be another toy you can play with until I break?

Am I still a good person for wanting to right all the wrongs done to me?
To want to right all the wrongs done to those around me?

Am I still a good person for craving to keep others from your manipulation?
Because at the end of the day,
you said you loved me with someone elses voice,
and then threw me away once I finally gained my own.

Living with Social Anxiety

You don't live with social anxiety.
Living means you accept what you have,
living equals harmony.

There is no harmony.
Social anxiety doesn't coexist harmoniously
with anything.

It clashes, it collides, it commands.
You don't live with it, it controls you.

Even when you think you have it under control,
it keeps you under its thumb
when you least expect it.
'Cause you live under a regime of mental illness,
you can try and try but eventually it continues to consume.

A concept like saying your name and major
asks me to think of my answer 100 times
only to say something completely different and unplanned.
I haven't left my room long enough to properly meet my roommates,
and I stare at myself in the mirror
trying to figure out if I will stand out or look weird.

I change, I shift, and morph into someone
who can blend into their surroundings.
Trying to become a drop of water that will fall into a pond,
and not make even a single ripple.

Yes people scare me,
but I'm equally terrified when I'm alone.

You don't live with your social anxiety,
you barely survive.

Back in the Swing

Unsure and anxious.

Taking a step away from one pain
and crossing a line into a new world that was once your old one.

I hide in my room to avoid being seen,
trying to act normal
and pretend that I will never not be scared.

The voices in my head that scream and high volumes,
aren't silenced.
They merge together until it's a white noise of anxiety.

Is there an easy way to be normal?
Is there an easy way to act like I can function
without breaking down.

Is there an easy way to pretend you aren't made of shattered glass,
held together by tape and strings?
One tiny push of pressure on the glass and it shatters.
How can one smile and hide the ghostly emotions inside.

Do you walk with your eyes actually straight ahead instead of downcast?
Do you say hi to everyone you pass?
Do you strike up a conversation with every cashier?

How do you not shrink at the idea of talking to others?
Or fear a conversation with people you don't know?

Fear is all around me and what makes me up,
so how do I learn to live without it?

I took a step forward, coloring my hair to try and see if a change will help.
But I'm just as scared.
How do I hop back into the swing of being an individual?