Esuba
things sound pretty when you put them backwards
create a space between truth and lie
untie your shoes your thoughts
lie in bed
wishing to get the vomit back in
wishing to have never spilled your words
they are lying on the floor
waiting for you to bring you down
up to the next level of despair, resignation and denial
that opposes the future
never looking forward to the future
melancholy and nostalgia always in the past
there is no space to live in
no truth to be told because who knows what really happened, right?
put the pieces together
yeah, see, your memories are the puzzle pieces that shaped the edges causing misconstructed fitting
no evidence of what is claimed to be true, whatsoever
show me your bruises, your scars, everything he has left you with
am I not evidence enough? don’t you see how I am breathing underwater, spacing out in a room full
of people, being mistaken for being happy when showing my teeth?
Yeah, but I mean out of 10 it wasn’t a 10 out of 10, more like a 6 or 7 or something
excuse me? I didn’t know you created different floors to measure one’s experience, putting a label
on someone as if to say you are authorized of being in pain, you have proven that your pain is valid
making it a sick compition I don’t wanna be part of
neither do I wanna flinch because of the littelest movements
or expect a lie in every single sentence someone says
or have their good parts still carved within me causing me to forget all of the bad things
it’s the aftermath
I wish it could unhappen
I could unhear
and unfeel
go back to the time before that
the person I was
but I don’t know how to be me anymore
and I still haven ‘t decided
whether that’s a good or a bad thing
because I figured
you need to break in order to grow
I’ll never be glad about the fact that it happened
but maybe I won’t be afraid
of eyes
hands
or words
anymore.
one day.

-Julia