a daylight dream

I’m tired: of fighting. of trying hard to feel okay. of ignoring it. of making thing better than they really are. My head is spiralling currently, as I am sitting down to write this, allowing reality to sink in and make sense. The reality of my current situation is quite intolerable. I’m tired of having to deal with the family issues for so long; the fights and negativity. I’m tired of having to hear criticisms and harsh words everyday and accepting them, as if they were never said. I’m tired of not being able to fight back and show that I disagree with the abuse. I disagree with being put down and humiliated. For a month now, I am struggling. The inside of my mind is a haze and I cannot see the future clearly any longer. The next step forward is like a glide towards the fog, which will swallow me and direct me where I do not want to go. I don’t know where to go. I don’t know where I belong at the moment. I don’t know if I belong here with family, or back t...

The last couple of days had been rather revealing; giving me an insight of how bad I can be at taking care of myself, in terms of being a human who needs to breathe, eat and drink to sustain life, in the least. I found out that I’m pretty bad at that, sadly. I just can’t get myself to believe I fully deserve self-care. I even find it difficult to sit down and have a normal lunch because I just skip the fact that I need nutrition to function. It’s now apparent why I’ve been so forgetful, out of focus and tired lately. I just completely forgot about the fact that I have a body and that my life is not only based around my heart and head— there are also some basic needs to attend to. I forget to breathe sometimes, fully grasped in thoughts that spiral around my head, consuming my energy. Thoughts reflecting on current situations and circumstances; constantly conjuring up opinions and hypotheses about what is right and what is wrong. I catch myself in the middle of the day comp...

She is the sand, You are walking on, She is the ground, Vast enough for everyone, Yet she knows, to you, She is a planet set loose, Colliding with galaxies en-route. She is the embrace, Of the ocean-blue, Against the coldness of the stones. She is the traces of your choice, To grow old with her youth, And she shall walk with you, Along the distances of time, While two worlds entwine. She is the silence of epiphanies, Exploding in your chest, She is the vacancy that listens, To her it makes sense; The complexity of the pretence, She is the home, Your feet walk into. And she has her scars; A celebration of what’s past, A fertile ground and a sign, That she is still alive, And she should only breathe, Her exhales are the clouds. And he listens, To the threads of her stories, He weaves them into her world, She can see them in the stars, Glistening with meanings, And inscrutable wonders. I see them both, In...