there's no doubting
that the simple early mornings
and caffeine-filled endless nights
are conned as boring and dull,
like any other type of day.
yet,
deep beneath the mask I put on,
and beneath all those beautiful smiles
I've shown to every person
on the block,
a nagging ache throbs
against my ribcage
all throughout the monotonous day.
it's not the feeling you get
when your favorite tv show
isn't aired
on the day where you have no work,
nor the feeling you have
when you don't get
to exchange handshakes
and trade glances
between your crush
with that blooming smile
walking down the hallways.
it's way deeper than that,
like the dullness
of a missed one
during those sorrow-striken nights
mixed in a concoction
of dangerous wonder,
heartwrenching lost faith,
and hatred, jealousy, anger,
all bottled up
in a cracked glass bottle,
and the dread—anxiety—
of something lurking
underneath the shadows
of a dark alleyway,
or the bile reaching your throat,
burning and ripping,
tearing and scarring,
begging for an escape.
it's all mashed up together
in one big blob
of a sinister nightmare,
seeking fear from all
and persuading others
who find relaxation
in the deepness of silence
to overwhelming thoughts.
beware of it,
and steer clear from the pull
of vanishing into
your weakest and darkest thoughts.
-V.
