sometimes i hide inside myself
feeling like my feelings are infiltrators
unwelcome guests that i can block
out
like as long as i don’t think about a thing
there’s no possible way it can affect me
and the effects won’t come effecting
until i open my door and let them in
invite them to come, when i’m more levelheaded
and can see emotions from a more logical standpoint
but i should know better
about all of
that.
write fast
low batt
oh no
your little arms are shaking
quaking in your shoeless boots
how long till the computer shuts down
could be two seconds
could be ten minutes
who knows
who knows
~~~
is my writing any good?
i ask in a poem
no one
will probably ever see
but me
~~~
the feels
are getting to me–
the random flashes of memory,
the stop-me-in-my-tracks because
a song reminds me of
a random day i had once
so so long ago
but it won’t leave my head–
why can’t i move on?
be the person i want to be?
connect with the child i used to be
without this inner teen crashing the party
every time i try to heal?
(i know,
i know,
it’s because i need to heal
the adolescent
as well)
oh no
the feels
where are they coming from?
my therapy was great
giving myself permission
to feel as others in my industry feel
but i guess i didn’t expect it to happen
the very next day
so what do i do?
—feel the feelings—
—breathe through it—
—don’t expect an ending—
—don’t expect anything—
—just feel—
—cry if you need to—
—feel—
—your—
—feelings—
(you are allowed)
(i am allowed)
(i am allowed)
kipventures 