I'm going through a bit of a tough time. Family issues, and whatnot.
So, I'm gonna dabble in my old, emo-kid, grade ten pastime. Such as writing.
I look about, searching
For just one fleeting glance of normality.
The facade is there.
We laugh and talk, and just generally pretend.
The fear is there.
It lives, it thrives, it revels
In our blatant discomfort.
I feel the tension,
I feel the urge to break it.
I want to talk, discuss, explain.
Instead, I squash it.
I embrace the fear.
Just like I always do.
Writing can definitely be a very healing thing. Don't let anyone tell you it's wrong or you shouldn't do it. If it helps you, that's amazing.
ReplyDeleteAlso. I'm here if ya need me, just saying :)