Pillows

A Poem by AndresLicea

Feelings that were built up just waiting to be released.

No this isn't about pillows but about feelings compressed inside, pent up to a point of collapsing. Feelings that destroy your own confidence and self worth until all you are left with is a shell of a person, always smiling with no heart, always talking with no heart, always breathing with no heart. But who wants to talk about the things people feel because heaven forbid these people who need our help bring us down with them. Isn't it easier to talk about pillows.

We hang on to older ones because they hold the most experience. They were there when you cried yourself to sleep at night when all you thought about was how you weren't enough of a person to make someone else proud of you. When you cried at night because the voice in your head is telling you you will never have someone special because all you do is bother people. You are a nuisance, a pest, an annoying bug. Pillows hold all of these feelings.

Older pillows are comfy. They need no adjustment because they have already molded to fit you. They're the only thing stable in a world where you look into the mirror and hope to see someone else looking back. Where people have lost all self worth and refer to self induced hurtful jokes because WE know if we make fun of ourselves no one else can do it to us. We call ourselves trash because that's how we feel. We feel worthless and expendable. And we never want our pillows to feel that.

But sometimes it is time to replace the safe haven you have created. Newer pillows are firm and tougher than what you are used to. They are not what you want. You want to feel safe, secure, and sure. The three magic S's. But new pillows are not what you want, they are what you need. You need a change of firmness. You need someone sturdy to help you get through the hard times in life. You need someone you can always rely on, and never feel worthless too. You need someone to call your own, and make them your priority. But how can we acquire newer pillows?

There are people put into this world who are givers. They give out love hoping to receive some in return. They give out kindness, never asking why. They give out happiness at the expense of their own. They're the ones who give out new pillows. They give and give and give, always ready to help someone before them.

But sometimes these givers need pillows of their own, and it would be easy for them to gift themselves but they can't. They cave in to expectations to always be a giver and never to expect anything in return. But the givers, NEED someone to show them that the road to a new pillow is not only one way.

Pillows wear out. They turn old and what was once pleasant turns into a burden. Always having to smile, and make others smile. Always having to be a leader. Always having to say they're alright. Never calling for help. I am tired of being a giver. I need a new pillow. I need one that is not filled with my tears and my insecurities. One that no longer fuels the voice of self worthlessness and depression. I give and I give and i give and I think it's about damn time I receive what I deserve.

I am tired of my pillow. I am tired of feeling like I am not worth it. Tired of deleting a text I have written for the tenth time because I need to be sure they won't hate me for the rest of their lives. I am tired of not being myself because I am not good enough. I am good enough, but my pillow is old. It is here and I can't let go.

My pillow is too big to throw away. I can't dispose of it. My pillow is here to stay absorbing more tears, and fueling my deepest fears. If you fear something enough, eventually it'll come true. I fear of being alone, only because I know I am alone. I fear of being rejected, only because I know I will never be accepted. And I fear of losing you, but I know I never found you.

© 2016 AndresLicea

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Featured Review

SLee

I love your personification of pillows. They are such a good object to use as a metaphor for feelings, comfortable, yet collapsing under the weight. You touched on so many ways that we ourselves, as well as our baggage, relate to them. It made me feel a closeness to my own. Lol. The meaning was not convoluted by a requirement of rhyme, so the rhythm is subtle and not pretentious, and easily appreciated. Stylistically, very unique, and telling. I feel like I read a person's personality, who you are, rather than just something you wrote. Personally, I think it's a really cool piece:)