My City.

My mind is a city.
It has been created so that two thoughts may pass quietly, with underlying apprehension, small factors in the grand scheme, and never connect. Never allow themselves to come together and create something potentially ingenious.
Instead they duck down alleys, and hide in corners, if they see the pleading in the eyes of the strange thoughts passing on the dark city street. My thoughts refuse to be approachable out of fear.
Fear of imabalance.
Fear of the unfamiliar.

A Long Week In Unfortunate Review.

"This too, shall pass."
I felt as if I was emerging from an exhausting coma, seeing the world again like I did when I was someone else, and now it's as though you're forcing me back in.
I didn't want it to be this way.
The minute I sensed a storm I jumped ship, and found what I was looking for. I was trying to avoid the thunder and the turbulence I knew I would face if I continued on the same path.
I found lovely people, people who accepted me. I hoped that we would quietly continue down different paths, navigate to happiness, because I sensed the tension. I knew when it wasn't the same.
It didn't turn out that way. You did not agree with my decision. It sparked anger and lies and I was shocked at how you had hurt me. Yet the more I retreated, the more I provoked you. I was caught. All I could do was be the bigger person. I told myself I couldn't let the immaturity that was radiating all around me get to me, affect me. So I gave in to something I no longer felt the same for.
And everything I was trying to seperate came together, and now I am threatened.
At first, I believed it was better this way. Better to possibly weaken bonds with those I love in order to prevent such harsh words.
And yet they continued, I can tell. I know they did and it can't be hidden.
I've seen more than that. You can't fool me.
And now I am threatened because another bond was formed. Those who I love dearly, who I had re-discovered happiness with, have now become infatuated with those who have essentially turned against me, no matter what I do.
And there is nothing more I can do, and it is magnified by the fact that I let you back in and you left me with nowhere to turn.
I can feel the bonds weakening, I can feel myself being cast out at sea again. And I am drowning.
I am drowning in exhaustion. I am drowning in weight I have put on, weight that represents all I have to carry now. I bear it on myself in ugly pounds, as though even my clothing has told me I'm not good enough, it can't be seen with me because it heard what you said.
I am terrified that your words will spread like wildfire and those I trusted will hear and believe them, and I will be left alone.
I am drowning in weight and exhaustion, and I am lost again in my coma.
You win.
You've broken me, just like you wanted.
I hope you're happy, because there is nothing left of me to give.
I'm gone again. I miss myself, I wasn't back for nearly long enough before you forced me inside again.

You Win.

Wish me away.
I will go.
I have no reason to tie myself to this place.
Yet I have conditioned myself terribly, and you do not wish me away.
Therefore, I stay.
You draw me to you.
I'm too exhausted to struggle.
I'm too tired to win, to walk away like I should.
It haunts me, yet all I can do is sleep and know you will always prevail.

A Summary.

I take each pill for specific side effects, which reassure of my health in turn, yet only temporarily.
When they die away, do not attempt and assure me with words.
I cannot hear.
During time, I have become incapable of listening.
My body carries what it can, and when it breaks, my excuses are loaded and fired like bullets.
I cannot blame myself for breaking, lest I lose hold of all I have left.
I would run to the ends of the earth to remove myself from this if I could.
You cannot make me happy.
Nothing can make my fear be still, it can only drown in the wake.
I wish to be immobilized by apathy, rather than slowly cracked by the weight of the world until I am reduced to fragments.
Never did I think the day would come when only apathy, that which I once loathed, would set me free.
And then, will I really be free?
One cannot be free, yet tied, dead and weighted, watching the world through apathetic eyes.
I must find something new as hours pass, to attach myself to and allow it to carry me day to day.
But slowly, steadily, I am running dry of things to believe in.
Perhaps apathy alone cannot keep my head above water after all.