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[therealxena]

I.B. Vyache, Excerpt 03.01.20

[therealxena]

concave // 2.20.2017

[therealxena]

Do you know what its like to stand watch everyday over people who look at your feelings like ghosts?. As scary and as invisible you think they are, step in my bubble and feel the powerful force that pulls me to rock bottom everyday, I cannot begin to tell you what feeling feels like. Like when you rinse your hair under running water and comprehend the refreshing warmth of comfort. Like when you scream in pain but only in your head because otherwise people tell you " don't worry ITS OK!" IT IS NOT OKAY, and the bitter bite of my own demons will never come close to the same bite that put me in my position. Because being "fixed" is easy for everyone else to SAY, and "getting better takes time, TRUST ME, just take it day by day". But trust is nothing other than a damn lie just like my own words that I unintentionally put into my head. But the point is DO YOU KNOW WHAT ITS LIKE to sit in a room full of people and feel alone or hated because you weren't there for an inside joke.? (Now I know why I wanted to stay in my bed) The pit of your stomach becomes empty and your intestines cringe, oh wait new subject, I'm ok again. The laughter one minute and anger the next, you'll never understand my anxious grasp for help, for it can be silence and fighting yet power and helping, even I can't grasp the beat of my own heart but I'm trying and damn you for stepping into my bubble. Because My bubble is safe. it's just me screaming at my own demons, and that's just the beginning.

[therealxena]

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[therealxena]

[therealxena]

Unwanted Friends

The mess on the floor wasn't me I swear. It was Depression and Anxiety that forced it there. My beds a mess and my heart skips a beat. All they give me is straight defeat. I fooled them once but gave up right away because no matter how hard I try they're here to stay. The Wonder of "getting better" isn't much of a crime, however it's a lost cause and such a waste of time. I've climbed out of this hole before but they keep pushing me back in, Depression and Anxiety takes another fucking win. As they hold me down and shovel dirt to bury me, I take my last breath of air and hope this sets me free. Mind over matter doesn't matter to your mind, so easy to search for yet so hard to find. Do I climb back out or sit in this rut. Ruthless and daring, I'm trying not to give up. Holding my ground, I push up my crown, back at it again, this time last round.