I can’t get past the heaviness.
Silence, the rain reminds me; it runs down the window.
My tears remind me, they run down my cheeks, silent.
No scream accompanying this struggle, nothing to defeat.
It just is. All the intellectualizations have no real solutions.
Fruitless efforts for what I feel inside. I must feel this? Why?
To know that I am alive? To know I can hurt; no brave face.
There is a heaviness that baffles me___it weighs me down.
I only want to be left to my own to hear myself think.
I don’t want opinions of what I should do, or where I should be at.
I am fine, then I can not sleep, or just don’t. Time passes____
I wait for the difference, the shift. I think it is here at last!
Good days, and then something triggers “it” Or it just comes.
Grief___ Sorrow, Sadness____the heaviness. Tireness____.
Does this all come from being brave when you were here?
A physical thing, a real thing. I am, as a horse, with blinders.
I identify with “The Scream!” But it’s not me to be like that.
There is little room in my head____ then I am fine again
I write, and write, and write to get it right. What is right?
I reach out, then I can’t? It’s only heaviness.