'i Would Like To Step Out Of My Heart

last month was so hard, so fucking difficult. but now it's over. and i genuinely can't believe i've made it this far. i can't believe i survived through all of this one poem a time. i can't believe it was just the thought of this poem that had to be written at the end of each day that kept me going on so many of these days. that it was these words that kept me alive.

'i've hated the words and i've loved them. and i hope that i have done them right' (the book thief)

i haven't been able to let anyone read all of them. they're too sad. maybe i will, one day. i know i need to. it's only for so long that you can scream on paper, that you can bleed through words. someday, you have to show someone the cracks in the walls so that they can come in. i hope i have the strength to do that. i hope it's not too late when i do that. i think, the most important thing i've learnt this month is that, you have to hope, no matter what. because that is the only thing that keeps you alive when all the light is sucked out of your life and the world feels like it's run out of oxygen. you have to hope.

'sometimes the saddest thing is to hope. sometimes, the only hope is the constant sadness' (yashodhaan burange)

day 10

10:59 p. m.

my hearts yearns for something it has never had. something it's not even sure exists. it searches and searches. in songs in languages it doesn't yet know and in people's last words. in stories written ages ago. in sunsets and stars long dead. i don't know what it wishes for. perhaps a way out of this world. dear heart, where would you like to go? dear heart, will you be happy there?

home really is the strangest of all places. you only ever seem to have one as a child. older, and you wish to run away. the first place you wish to run away from, no matter how much you proclaim to love it. it is only when you do leave, when you need a home thr most, that it ceases to be home anymore. it is only when you yearn for it more than anything you have ever yearned for, that you cannot recognize it anymore. you wish for home, but home doesn't feel like home anymore. you wish for your mother's arms, but she is not the mother you grew up with. or maybe she is and you simply do not recognize her anymore. when you go back, you run away again. and again, and again, and again. running away and away and away. towards home. wherever it may be.

“It is so much safer not to feel, not to let the world touch me.”

— Sylvia Plath

nobody ever tells you how painful growing up really is. or maybe they do. maybe that's all they ever tell you, but you never listen.

i've started hoarding my memories. it feels like it's all going to come to an end faster than it should - and yet, every day feels unbearable.

i would like to leave. i would like to spend forever in my mother's arms. i would like time to stop here. i would like to be at the end of this waiting. all that i want is a contradiction of itself.

i would like the end to be final.

idek these days. are these happy? or are these sad? ig these are the middle days... the normal days that normal people have, when they follow their schedules and do normal people things. but like, who even are these nornal people? who here does not have something hurting them at any given point in time? who here does not get days and weeks and months when they just... can't. i can't believe that exists at all. but maybe it does, who am i to judge. maybe i would like to be there someday. someday...

and i'd really, really like to believe that there's someone out there reading all this. reading this and rooting for me to make it through this. because if not, then what am i even doing here?

so many homes, so many goodbyes. where do i stay. where do i leave. i leave and i long. i run away until the road ends and then some more. too long, too far. i never want to leave anywhere. and then, everywhere. but is it really a tragedy, to have so much to love. so much to lose.

day 5

6:49 p. m.

maybe it really is that easy to get over stuff. or maybe it's just doing everything you can so you don't have to think about it. denial. ignorance. or pain. who knows which one is better. i don't want to find out that answer.