…suicidal insomnia
…the other day i cried-
i drove and i cried-
profusely-
for myself and the ones the earth held-
for the emotions it masks-
for the soul to the left of me, slightly grinning while turning left in the red kia-
for the one crossing the street with the blankest look of expression-
for the one unseen, sitting on a bed in france, battling suicidal insomnia; alone- 💕
we are hurting-
but no one talks about it-
holding the most profound untruths of guilt for being the broken one-
oh who will love the broken one-
who will cut the tag off the blanket, so my sensory can sleep?
who will admire my flesh, but love my soul even more?
who will mend to the one unseen, here also sitting on a bed in indiana, battling suicidal insomnia?
to the soul in france, stay with me. 💕
the other day i cried-
i drove and i cried-
insanely-
for the misunderstood who conversate amongst themselves-
where are you? I’ll exchange words with you- 💕
for the angry souls that simply want a friend-
read my words and fall into me- you are never alone-
i cried for the brilliant masks that no one could see- contemplating that moment being their last-
but i also cried for God- for his emotion of sadness, that we tend to think cannot exist-
for the weight of his own massive thoughts-
while reminding him that even in chaos, earth holds his art,
still- 💕
the other day i cried-
i drove and i cried-
deeply-
for the beings that see me but don’t-
for the woman seen, but the autistic girl that provides-
47, yet at times psychologically around 17-
whose raised 4 children-
who pays her bills-
who drives the car-
whose afraid every single day-
who cries as she types this-
life is beautiful-
the world a canvas, indeed-
but there is a loud silence we cannot ignore-
a suffering we must embrace-
an extend we must give-
beautiful molasses and a yard full of weeds-
a smile that’s a smile, and a smile that’s a cry-
silk sheets in one room, suicidal insomnia in the other-
both exist-
i am with you. 💕
kb- ‘ily’
written to: hello/aqyila
