Hei alle kjære og trofaste lesere.
Sorry sjeldne oppdateringer, har egentlig mer enn nok med å holde hodet over vannet 😰
I det siste har jeg begynt å jobbe, og før jeg gikk på en smell i påsken, mente alle at jeg hadde det så mye bedre. Selv om kampene er like virkelige på innsiden.
Jeg skrev et dikt for en tid tilbake jeg ønsker å legge ut.
For å forklare; mine dikt-prosesser foregår på to måter. Enten bruker jeg ukesvis på et dikt, eller så skriver jeg i affekt, og blir ferdig på kort tid. Dette er det sistnevnte. Tror jeg brukte 30-40 minutter på dette diktet. Så rent kunsterisk, etter mine standarder, er jeg ikke fornøyd. Men dette er hjertet mitt på papir. Håper dere skjønner hva jeg mener.
PS. Til deg jeg har sendt linken til, du vet hvem du er. Jeg vet jeg har snakket litt fra levera om at du har understreket hvor bra det går fordi jeg var noen måneder skadefri og jobbet. Men dette er ikke ment bare til deg selv om jeg sendte deg linken, så please ikke ta det personlig. Du har kommet deg veldig, og det er jeg veldig glad for. Takk.
They say; “You’re good now, right?
Stop pretending to be fighting with all of your might
Everything is going so well
And you’re feeling it too, I can tell”
“You’re healthy now, I can see that
Don’t mind that you feel worthless, small and fat
I don’t care about your fight
Or that you cant sleep at night”
“Because we all expect you to do fine
What pain do you define
As somewhat of a downfall
I don’t care, you’re seem to be standing tall”
“Standing tall as you work, and stay on top off self-injury
No matter that you’re feelings need a whole lot of surgery”
So I`ll keep on masking, keep on walking
But the truth is, its my inside they’re mocking
Because inside, I’m just pretending
My soul is just bearly pending
Waiting on something to make me smile
A real smile, that stays for a while
Should I lie and say everything is great?
Let this masquerade seal my fate?
At least in their mind
They think I am fine
I try to communicate, that my mind is a mess
But they don’t wanna hear it, I guess
They keep telling me I’m doing so good
Not knowing that nothing is as is should
I keep fighting every day
Trying desperately to find a way
A way to show how I really feel
I’m an onion that’s hard to peel
And onion with layers that brings tears
Tears I’ve gone through for years
I don’t want them to worry, don’t want them to see
that my layers are falling apart, just lost at sea
I wear a mask with smiles and lies
It hides the sadness in my eyes
Through a broken heart I smile
But when I’m alone, I simply cry
So how to make them see that this is all a game
A game to hide my feelings away, a game to flee the pain
A game to protect myself from harm
To keep the cuts away from my arm
Just because I work and not self destructive doesn’t mean I’m fine
I’m trying to make them understand without crossing a line
I’ve never hurt myself to show my pain
But is that what it takes, just to explain?
I’ve never considered self harming to communicate, and don’t think I ever will
But how to show my pain, how to make it still
I don’t want it to ever come to that
So please hear me when I smile, but say I’m in combat
I’ve been cutting and cutting last week, to make the suicidal thoughts go away
But now that it’s been days since last time, they think everything is okey?
I need to vent my pain, to be able to cope with wanting to die
But it gets harder every day, just to stay alive
They think it gets easier, the longer it’s been since the last cut I’ve made
But its a mountain I have to climb, it gets harder and with every step I get closer to the blade
I hold my mask in one hand, and try to climb with the other one
But I get more tired and the air gets thinner the higher I get, the damage is done
So I try my best to not show any pain
Try not to go down memory lane
But my masks are confused with a pain that’s not there
But the pain is so real, I can feel it right here
My whole inside is both chaos and silent
I cant see where it’s safe, and I cant see where it’s violent
There is bloody underwear and bloody arms
There’s a child screaming, but not making any sounds
This wounds and masks runs deep into my past
His eyes go into focus at last
“If you show anyone you’re in pain, you’ll know what I’ll l do!”
Beats and rapes, I knew it to be true
So you see, I’ve always tried to make people think I am okay
Try to smile, laugh and joke the pain away
But now, the pretending is hurting me
I’m dying inside, but no one can see
I get so frustrated when they think my masks define my feelings
There is so much inside of me, there are high ceilings
I’m screaming at the top of my lungs; no, I’m not alright!
But no one hears my screams, and no one sees my fight
So how do I deal with this, what do I do
To make all these lies come true
The lies that I’m coping, the lies that I’m fine
How to make these lies come a reality of mine
Because of course I wanna be able to cope
Keep my neck away from the rope
But my eyes get weary, and they lose their light
My happiness now seems out of sight
Will my masks someday be real?
Will happiness be they way I truly feel?
I cant seem to see that, its to far away
Because behind the fake smiles is where I lay
So how do I end this poem, to reflect what I mean
I don’t blame them, I wipe the slates clean
Because I am the actor behind the disguise
I am the one who live with the lies
But my mission is; don’t take for granted that I’m doing alright
Just because I seem to be doing so great
I still struggle, still fight to stay away from the knife
Try not to succumb to taking my life
So please don’t think Im fine and just walk away
I need to see me through it, need you to stay
Linger with me in my pain
A pain I am sick of having to explain
So know I’m still going through hell
Even though you might not be able to tell
So please hear me screaming, just please hear my plea
Behind the masks, its still just me
It's a fragile life 