Anxiety · Depression · Emotional Abuse · Poetry · Writing

It starts again

It’s nearly morning again and I have spent the entire night awake as per my usual. My knees are shaking and I can feel a flutter in my heart. Why now? Why is it now?

I am told I need to feel, to express these muted emotions. I have taken my reactions and suppressed all the urges to cry or scream or speak my truths.


What that is, I could not explain and perhaps this healing must be done incoherently and on my knees. I sense this pervasive sufferering  and I can not tell if my heart is overflowing or a hollow cavern. My body feels foreign. I can not tell where my skin begins.


They tell me it’s okay and it’s over…

But it’s not for me, it replays nightmarish images. Oh please God, oh please let this be fictitious.


I’m not sure how much this tiny one can handle. I shutter into reality. 

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