Dying Flame

[source: Bad Wolves “Zombie”]

I haven’t written in awhile.
Doesn’t mean that things were fine.
I just hadn’t thought about it…until last night.
I didn’t write last night because I wanted to see if the feeling would go away.
It didn’t.

Everybody says this mantra of Things won’t come to you, if you wait for it. Things aren’t going to come to you, but the ways of someone else. If you want change, you have to do it. In some aspect, I agree with it.
But, what do you do, if you no long have the strength to fight for those things?
What if you’re broken? Mentally? Emotionally?

I’ve always been the strong one in terms of helping others and dealing with whatever blows that came my way. Eventually, shields crack. I’ve always been the strong one, even knowing, that I didn’t have anyone in my corner to watch my back. Or anyone in my corner during my moment of weakness.

Growing up, I’ve been told in more than one occasion, I never had to worry about you. You’re different. and etc. I was put on this pedestal of never needing anyone to do me any favors because I was confrontational, I spoke my mind, I did this or that, and etc. No one stopped to realize that I would need them in any way. I’ve been called mean, cold hearted, callous, but the one name pierced me; emotionless.

When I express my emotions, it’s all for naught; you think I’m being moody; or seeking attention. When I don’t express my emotions, you tell me to let people in; don’t carry your burden alone; you’re too apathetic, and so forth.

Which one shall I be?

I think of myself as a dying flame. Everyone sees it. Everyone is so mesmerized by its light dance that they don’t notice its lowering presence. I’ve lost my self-worth. If my kids didn’t exist, neither would I. My love for my kids is the mere reason why my flesh still walks this earth. In a sense, I’m like a zombie. I’m just the shell of who I once was.

I don’t know which way to go.
I don’t know how to reclaim myself.
My worth.
My time.
My existence.
I just paste a smile on my face, do my song and dance, whilst the storm of emptiness ravish my soul.

I’ve close myself off to some of those that knew of me.
Some family.
Some acquaintances.
Why?
I refuse to be anyone’s entertainment.
They don’t care to know how I really am.
If they did, they would put forth the effort.
Besides, if you know what negativity a person brings, why be around it.

I’ll admit that I trust no one.
I don’t believe words that leave some people’s lips.
I ignore the “copy & paste” response that people have given me.

My health is failing.
But, Death isn’t coming as soon as I would like it.
And when it does,
Those same souls that did nothing would say,
“I didn’t know she was going through that.”
I didn’t know she felt that way.”
“I didn’t know that happened to her.”

Although I displayed it in my actions and my words, for all to see.

I’ll admit that I need direction.
I need help.
I need to find me.
But, if my flames burn out first,
Then so be it.

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