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The questions, uncertainty and lack of confidence is exactly what's needed to mold you into someone who refuses to feel like this again.©zealous_xpression
My imagination has become a thriller
Like a good trailer I see flashes ofScenes which leave you in aweDots randomly placed for the viewer To join togetherAnd an arrangement not too uncommon in the current climateUnfortunately the picture is not ofSunflowers or a famous cartoonBut a body, finely dressed and restingIn decorated oakwood waiting to take him to his next life.©zealous_xpression
I wish to look at myself and Be confident that my broken piecesCan be recycled into something beautiful Just like all the people I've prayed for©zealous_xpression
Midnight love affair
On days where we're unable to talkI go to bed as quickly as possible HopingPrayingTrusting That you remember our star-witnessed plansAnd meet me in the secret corridors of our dreams©zealous_xpression
Still I rise.
Mental health battles
Can sometimes have no catalyst or originating motif. You could be having the best day of your life and still somehow get rifled over by a surprise tsunami of insecurity and self doubt.It's normal.©zealous_xpression
Not sure about this one, thoughts?
A disconnect from your loved ones
I wish it were sudden and abruptA power outage in the midst of an electric atmosphere.Ateast then there would be a reason...a determination to repair the fault as swiftly as the disconnect itself.Instead, it moved stealthily...A faulty globeA loose cableA problematic side-plugBut nothing screaming loud enough for my attention to hear.They say the best way to boil a frog Is not to throw it into the fiery bathBecause it will take flight immediately upon landing.Instead, leave it in comfortable waters and gradually increase the temperature. By the time it realizes, it will have been par boiled.I am a passive amphibian boiled to perfection.©zealous_xpression
I once heard that practice does notMake perfect, it makes permanent.And lately I’ve practiced the art ofOf losing myself in the abys of my thoughts– It’s like being starved so muchYou forget how food tastes.Like your lungs have become an Alzheimer’sPatient at the thought of fresh air. At first you still feel weighed down.Exhausted.TenseEven at the hand of comfort. I guess it’s what happens when you’reUsed to seeing mirages –The lakes in front of youBegin to feel like propaganda. But when you find your safe houseYou need not think too hardOr try to find the words to emotions whichHave no translation. When the realization settlesThat I am safe,My trauma becomes a friend thatI have outgrown.I begin remembering what peace feels like-A familiarity from a past life. For so long I have practiced just surviving,You have helped me make a habit out of living. ©zealous_xpression @akiraj_
It was cinematic how time began to lose steam.The way each step felt uncertainOn the confused ground. With great convictionHe fell through the room door and Carefully placed his paper plate down. In that moment, His attraction for his bedSimmered away...The floor, however, stayed ready, Waiting to pounce, Waiting for him to return. Without a thought even thinkingAbout being born, he gaveInto the affair.Sinking wholeheartedly. With no control or resistance His body became one with theFoundation he laid upon. And for once, he saw the world In its eyes: "Things appear larger than they areFrom down here",He thought,"Problems seem larger than lifeWhen you feel like you've fallen." He quickly tried to bring himself Back to eye-levelBut the weight of his body was too Much for him to bare.It was as if he was trying to Lift in a weightclass far aboveWhat he could carry. He just laid there.Praying someone would help,But hoping no one would see his vulnerable Body mimicking a crime scene. As if he had become a bad actorAuditioning for his own funeralHe stayed still,FrozenAnd so flustered that even hisThoughts vanished with his lines. Everything around him followed suit:The wind held its breath, The TV closed its eyesAnd for a few seconds.. Serenity flew around the roomBefore the subtle movement of resting fingers. Muscle by muscle The boy struggled and clawedHis way back onto the bed. She welcomed theProdigal son with Open arms.
Episode 19: Paralyzed
He just laid there.Praying someone would help,But hoping no one would see his vulnerable Body mimicking a crime scene. ©zealous_xpression
I often find myself tripping when trying to dodge the spikes of an "Is she your girlfriend?"And so, on eggshells I waltzMaking sure each step reaches the groundAnd nothing moreIn the field of charged mines eager to express themselves. Because like Rudy, I am not afraidOf heights nor falling But what will happen once my body kisses the earth.Not because I've had the privilege of minglingWith that episode But I have been in the jungle long enoughTo have felt the tremors Of all those around me.©zealous_xpression
Like a faulty tap the salted waters crept. They seeped through the coupled hands andLeaked ever so smoothly despite every resistance to contain it. It ran down every inch of the roomTrying to escape the preying walls which had no intention of slowing down their conquest of swallowing whole. Tissues became band aids the way they tried to slow down the liquid life flowing out. The patient sat. Feeling every breath.Accepting every thought penetrating bullet.But somehow choosing to stay alive.©zealous_xpression