Exhausted. Overwhelmed. Speechless.

These are all the feelings that I am experiencing right now.

All I can do is write them down. My emotions dripping from my mind through my pen.

I’m so tired of being tired is tiring.

When will this end? When will I change?

My attitude has become lax.

I never used to be like this. I was a go getter. I knew where I was heading. Now not so much.

I want more than just staring up at the growing patches of mould on my ceiling.

I want more than that over the rainbow life.

I want to live it now.

Experience the rush. Not the steady tiptoe of non existence.

The corners of my eyes sting from tears that have long since been cried. Ache from their memories.

The steady strum of my breath reminds me that I’m still alive, but am I really.

My constant enemy sleeps next door to me. A wall separating us. A wolf in sheep clothing. And yet love still leaks out of me.

I am a bundle of confused wool. Tangled up, yearning to be straightened and untied.

I am the aftermath.



My heart keeps breaking into a million pieces and no matter what I do, I can’t stop it. It’s uncontrollable.

I want to run and hide but there is nowhere to go. I want to scream at the top of my lungs but my voice won’t let me. So I stand here silent allowing my eyes to glaze over. Ignoring the fire that is raging inside.

I’m the king of wearing this mask, I will never allow people to see the real me; I will continue on with this facade.

I paint a smile on my face, allow laughter to fall from my mouth, the waves shaking my body; replacing the tears I’m crying on the inside.

Deep down I’m dying, but no one will ever know.

Every day I feel more alone, no matter how many people I come in contact with.

All I want is the darkness to consume me. For my pain to be washed away. Finally.

I want to sink into the grass, lie there as rain falls down on me.

I’m tired. I’m so tired. I’ve never felt less alive then I am now.

I ache for something but I don’t know what it is.

I’m lost in this world full of people, they all walk in one direction, while I walk the other way.

No one knows the pain I feel, the tears that I cry.

I feel like a ball of nothing. I am nothing.


He touched her face.

His hand familiar but strange.

She wanted to remember, she wanted to know him.

She screamed inside. Hurt building up. She wanted to know him.

Wanted to remember all the times that he had placed his hand on her face previously, but the memories wouldn’t come.

His brown eyes bore into her own. As if he was trying to search inside for her. Trying to bring her back to him.

But she was lost. He knew that. She was never coming back.

He ripped his eyes away so that she would not see the pain growing deep inside of him.

Staring at the wall, memories of their life together fought their way into his head. He tried to fight the off, but they continued to come, refusing to let up.

A memory of the first time he had seen her crept inside.

A vision of pure and innocent beauty. She didn’t know he was watching her. She wore all black, as if she was in mourning. Her glasses struggling to stay up right. Every now and then she pushed them back up her face. Grimacing at the annoyance of having to do so.

She was so engrossed in her work, that she didn’t look up when her colleague asked her if she was coming out to lunch. So lost in whatever she was doing that the outside world could’ve crumbled and she would have been oblivious to it all.

He had wanted to approach her, to tell her that she was the most intriguing woman that he had ever seen. That he wanted to get to know her. That he had felt a connection to her. But he was too scared. Scared of the rejection he knew he would receive.

It would take a year before he uttered his first words to her. A year of unnecessary trips to her office, meetings about nothing, just so he could see her smile, see her wrinkle up her face in frustration.

“No,” he shouted balling up his fist, pushing the memory away.

Surprise washed over her face as he realised he had said this out loud.

She searched his face, looking for answers to her unspoken questions.

He suddenly felt claustrophobic, like he couldn’t breathe. He had to get out of there. He had to leave. He sprung up from his chair and left the room.

He ran down the corridor, dodging members of staff and other patients on his journey. His breath tight in his chest.

Reaching the end of the corridor, he sunk to the floor.

She really was gone. She was never coming back to him.

His heart began to break, hot tears sprang from his eyes and he sobbed deeply.

She was never coming back.

New Year’s Tears

My first frustrated tear of the year falls from my eye and of course it’s because of you.

Of course you are the one to end the mellowness that I have felt since the clock struck midnight.

I tried I really did. You were my resolution, to try and be kind, to try and build the bridges that had long since fallen.

But every word you speak is the jab of a knife. Poison bounces off your tongue.

Why are you so negative? Are positive words so far removed from your vocabulary?

I sit in a dark room because of you. Tears streaming down my face, my self worth ripped to shreds.

Fear flashes through my mind, as I think of another year with you. Another year of pain, coldness and sadness.

You are everything I don’t want to be and yet I crave for just one nice word to be uttered from you.

Why did I think it could be different? That you could ever change. Because a new year does not mean a new you and I’m forever destined to be your punching bag.

Random Monologue: Fake Smile

Everyday I wake up and I wonder if this is really reality? Has one third of my life really gone by? Why am I still stuck in a life that I hate? Is happiness even real? Is this all I am?

These questions float around my head from the moment my eyes open, follow me throughout the day, and leave when my head touches my pillow.

I look in the mirror and cover myself with positive affirmations, pasting a fake smile on my face. This is my make-up. The reflection that stares back at me is not the me I know. This is the person that you all see, but a stranger to me.

This fake me walks around, showing people that all is good and well. Radiating this fake happy. When deep down I am dying inside. Bit by bit I slowly crumble. Struggling to keep this smile from falling down. The scaffolding that holds it up, struggling to keep the weight up and buckling from underneath.

I want to scream at people to help me. I want to cry and claw at my skin. Ripping it off so the real me is exposed. But instead I smile and continue on with this facade; hoping and willing that something or someone will come along and make a big change to my non-existence. That there really is a pot of gold at the end of this shattered rainbow.

One day I will find my happiness. One day I can stop this pretense.

But until that day, I must continue. So I cover myself in fakery, smile one last smile at the stranger in the reflection, and walk out into a world that does not know me.