Alt Ed Art

Pep Talk From My Subconscious Mind [Poem]

Images flashing through your mind like bullets,

Piercing through the skin,

each picture sharper than the last.

All you feel is

Crippling pain, vivid images of the past,

Haunting you,

Taunting you.

Yet you smile, suffering in silence

With the strongest of poker faces

Because at the tender age of seven,

You learned never to trust another soul.

So you internalised this,

Carrying your burden like an accessory,

Pulling your weight in gold.

 

But as the river keeps flowing,

I’ll keep on moving on.

 

So you decided to pick up the remaining shards of your sanity,

Attempting to put the pieces back together.

Just keep pushing

But every time you take a step forward,

You’re dragged three steps backwards.

Exhausted,

Struggling to carry your pain.

Craving intimacy but unwilling to open up.

How do you share your pain when you can’t even trust?

You barely even trust yourself.

Suffering in silence, suffocating under this weight.

 

So where do you go when you’re by yourself?

Who comes along when you cry for help?

 

Can you cry for help?

It seems your mouth is dry.

Unable to formulate a functional sentence to

Even begin to explain what’s darkening your heart.

So you smile softly, regurgitating the lie

You’re used to telling.

“I’m fine, just a little tired”

See there it is again,

That FUCKING poker face.

Don’t you get tired of lying to the people you claim to love?

 

Holding on to a lesson you learnt in your childhood,

A lesson reinforced in your adolescence

Now here you are,

As an adult,

Struggling with this baggage from your past,

A bag lady. That is what you are.

 

But I know I can’t change the past.

 

Are you aware that no man is an island?

Did you ever notice that while you were building a brick wall to

Shut the world out?

You accidentally built yourself a prison cell

With nothing but a window to watch the world

Pass you by?

 

Careful –

I see the cracks in your poker face.

 

Trapped in a cell you built with your bare hands

In the name of self-preservation.

A job too well done, if you ask me.

Watch it, your perfect smile is wavering.

You want to scream

but did you forget?

No one can hear you.

You have completely isolated yourself from the world.

 

So what now?

Written by Zilla Ansa (Twitter: @ZillaAnsa)

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