๐๐ ๐๐ฆ๐จ๐ญ๐ข๐จ๐ง ๐ฏ๐ฌ. ๐๐ง๐ญ๐ฎ๐ข๐ญ๐ข๐จ๐ง
I know what I feel.๏ปฟ
I always know.
Even when I pretend I donโt,
even when I overthink it to death,
the truth is thereโquiet, steady.
And thatโs the problem.
I know what I should do.
The logical thing.
The clean, quiet, rational move.
But then thereโs that ache,
that pull that doesnโt ask permission.
And suddenly nothing feels simple anymore.
My heart says jump.
My mind says, โStay still.โ
One of them craves to fall apart
The other demands control.
I stand between them,
holding both like burning wires,
asking myself which fire hurts less.
Following my heart feels beautiful
But reckless.
Like I might taste something real,
and then bleed for it later.
Stillโฆ isnโt that better
than feeling nothing at all?
And then thereโs the boss.
Cold, clear, safe.
It calculates the pain
before it even arrives.
It thinks thatโs protection.
But sometimes I wonder if itโs just fear,
wearing a devious mask.
I hate that I always want both.
To leap and to safely land.
To risk and to retreat.
To feel and to be fine.
But no matter what I choose,
Something gets lost.
And Iโm always the one who pays for it.
So here I am again.
Knowing what I feel.
Knowing what I think.
Knowing theyโll never agree.
And trying, once again,
not to break myself in half.
๐๐ The Bardโs Block | January 22, 2019
