I am afraid of vocalising my feelings and wants because I preempt disappointment. So is the way of the world.
I have given you the benefit of the doubt so many times that I feel like I am now screaming in a vacuum.
You once told me you have ways of getting rid of those who have become surplus to requirements. And so it appears your method of coercion is emotional torment.
Yours is the cruel heart.
You claim to be compassionate, but this is not visible in your actions.
Sometimes, I wish we lived in a totalitarian state; then, at least you would care for the living.
I fear returning to an environment that is destroying my soul.
I am scared that I will be triggered.
I feel anxious and petrified.
I am afraid of experiencing the numbing pain that gnaws at the bones and turns ones heart to stone.
You take, we give until we can no longer — then we fake, for there is nothing left to do. Our souls are dead inside, and our true feelings cannot be shown. We are the living dead reciting vacant platitudes.
Like a distant echo, my soul is hollow.
For there are no longer any longings for tomorrows, no swansongs for my yesterdays, for I am drowning in sorrow.
