Reflections on my inner and outer worlds.

Posts tagged “sickness

Nostalgia (12/2/2016)

Nostalgia

Sickness

Sadness

I dream of you still.
I dream you want me back.
That you’re sad.
That you are depressed without me.

Every time I wake up from them,
and several days thereafter,
I feel sick.

Ill

Those butterflies that once lived
in my stomach.

Dead

And the corpses remain.

Decomposing

Rotting

Upsetting my stomach and wanting out.

Weighing down on my mentality.

You’re still there.

You’re still haunting me.

I don’t want you there.

You make me sick.

You legit make me want to puke.

I dream you want me back.

But I don’t want you back.

You hurt me.
Ever since that last late spring,
you hurt me.

The physical illness isn’t the worst part.

It was confiding in you.

It was trusting you.

It was putting all my faith in someone,
hoping they weren’t the same as the others.

And watching it all happen

All over again

It was hearing you say
that you “didn’t care

You were tired of me.
You were tired of almost everything I am.

It was hearing the fact that

I’m not worth talking to when

I’m not happy
I’m upset

Sad

Depressed

Lost in a black abyss

Trapped in the dark

I still remember it.

I remember all those words

Those that which broke me down

Those that shut me back in.
Those that meant,

I should not open up.
I should not trust people.
I should not explain how I feel to anyone.
That I should never have done that in the first place.

And when I think back to our good memories.
It makes me sick.

Ill

Gross

When I get nostalgic,
it destroys me a little bit
at a time.

And it breaks me down
when it’s about you.

Because it reminds me

that I never should have trusted you.

I never should have confided in you.

I never should have put faith in you.

When I get nostalgic,

it reminds me that you destroyed

the weak side of me

after helping build it up.

 

When I get nostalgic,

it reminds me that

I never should have fell for you

as hard as I did.


Let Me Help (9/17/2014)

Sickness fills my stomach.
No longer are they butterflies.
But disgusting sickness.
How can I be of help to you?
I can’t help.
It causes sickness in my stomach.
Please let me help.
The sickness is corroding my entire being.
I can’t keep up.
My body can’t rid the sickness any longer.
The butterflies died and are corrupting my being.
I can’t hold it in.
The sickness is traveling throughout my body.
Why can’t I rid this filthy pest?
Why can’t I get rid of this sickness?
This feeling of being worried?
Please, let me help you.
Let me aid you and help you not feel this way.
I can’t feel better knowing that you aren’t well.
I can’t just hope that you’ll feel better.
Because I know how hard it is to face this by one’s self.
Please let me help you.
Please help me get rid of this sickness.
Please…
I’m deathly worried about you.
I want to help you feel better.
I can’t help you feel better if you won’t let me.
The butterflies you gave me are dying.
Because they are so worried.
I’m so worried, please.
Please let me help.
The tears are rushing down my face.
I’m so pathetic.
I can’t help.
My tears won’t stop because I can’t be of any help.
My mind is racing and the tears are falling.
I can’t get what I’m trying to say written down.
But writing is all I can do to open my heart.
My heart is blocked.
My mind is shut down.
I can’t think straight.
The only thing I can think of is helping you.
I can’t stop thinking of what if…
What if you just off-ed yourself right now.
I don’t know how I could get over you.
What if I didn’t try hard enough to help?
I want to help so badly.
I can’t think straight.
I can only think of helping you.
Please let me help you.
Please, just let me help you get through this.
I don’t want you dying over a temporary problem.
I don’t like knowing I can’t be of any help.
I know I’m not of much help.
But I try to be.
I try to be of help.
But I can’t ever be of good help.
I want to help.
So please let me help you.
Please…
Let me at least try…