Trash bin

It’s been a while. Funny how I spent almost a good fifteen minutes on this page just to write a sentence only to delete it right away. Write, delete, write, then I read it, ponder about it for a second and then delete it. I can’t seem to find my safe space to empty my feelings anymore. This is supposed to be my safe space to write, to scream, to let my anger out. I shouldn’t have to feel this way, should I? But why do I feel this way?

Is it, still, my mind doing the same tricks over and over again? Am I still blindly falling for the stupid old tricks or honestly, is it the way you caught me naked only by this piece of writing?

Was I too obvious?

Is this too straight-forward?

Is it too much for you?

The way I profess my feelings, my fear, my breath. This is how I persevered with my madness and you call this beautiful? You were not supposed to see this as an art, it was never is, and will never be. This is not a skill, this is a cry for help, an agonizing scream of misery, a child’s tantrum.

And if you stumble upon this piece, go ahead and toss this to the trash bin.