I Don't Do The Talking ThingA Poem by goddessofwritingIf I manage to cry, my heart is rejuvenated from its restless slumber.Smiling makes me feel happy. Because when I smile I know that other people are satisfied because they think I’m happy. Talking makes me feel alive. Because when I talk, I feel as if I’m bringing something to life; words. Laughing makes me feel human. Because when I laugh, I am doing something that humans are supposed to do. When I tear, the numbness leaves for one split second. When tears climb down my cheeks, it no longer is a sign of overwhelming sadness, but of release. If I manage to cry, my heart is rejuvenated from its restless slumber. A coma I lie in. Except this one I may never escape for more than a blur of a minute. Oozing fat, glistening in the light. One too many swallows, and I pinch and dig. The voices inside my head scream and screech the truths of my reflection. Searching for answers? More like for one more gone. Trying with unceasing effort, although with no fuel I can barely step. Sucrose taunts me, and eventually I give in. Then once again the voices, and then barricades I try to put up. But each and every time I am convinced. Confused between terror and gelidity of my insides. When will I throw it away? © 2017 goddessofwritingAuthor's Note
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5 Reviews Added on October 13, 2017 Last Updated on October 13, 2017 Tags: sad, truestory, broken, depressed, talk, normalthoughts, lifeinonepoem, deadinside AuthorgoddessofwritingCanadaAboutHello there! I used to be on here a lot years ago, but I was going through a lot of mental issues (still now, but back then I was very ‘Yeesh’ in how I would express that sometimes), an.. more..Writing
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