literature

Mixed Feelings

Deviation Actions

Published: Dec 10, 2013

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Literature Text

Originally written on November 1, 2013

A part of me is glad to be rid of that house. Another part is sad to know I'll never see it again. That side threatened to spill tears this morning. Luckily, once again, I fought it. Why do I even feel so attached to that house? I only ever saw her in that house once. ONCE! It's not like I have some great childhood memories there. She always visited me! And, ugh, I fought them again! Why?! Why do I do this? What am I protecting myself from? And now I'm totally ignoring it, or at least trying to. Hm, maybe if I keep my mask on and keep acting like everything's fine, it'll go away. I already know that won't work. I hate this, I hate this, I hate this! Where can I go where I feel it's safe to rage away? To throw everything in sight and punch a few lockers? To slam every open door and yell at the world? Where can I go where I feel it's safe to shed every built up tear in my little jar? To stay up all night over thinking every detail? To cry myself to sleep a thousand times? My bedroom isn't safe. Home isn't safe. School isn't safe... Choir isn't safe. It should be and it can be, but only during worship. Otherwise, I'll take the burden and keep my mask tied on tight. I'll plaster on a smile for those who will never understand and only slightly hint to those close to me. So many morbid thoughts. So many mixed feelings. A part of me is glad this won't happen again. It can't happen again. She was the only one I had. The only one I knew. I promised myself an already broken promise that I wouldn't rant. But I needed to. I still need to, but I guess this will have to do for now. I can't go anymore. My heart has only just spilled over the top. It shall never be empty. In the meantime, I'll just keep doing what I always do. Music in, world out.