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I sink.
I sink and sink and sink as the endless ocean swallows me whole.
Yet I don't drown.
No, I can't drown. That'd imply a state of livelihood.
It can't be.
I'm merely an object falling by its own weight.
Inanimate, soulless object.
Discarded when unused.
The usual by now.
I surrender to the forces of the universe.
Defeated. Resigned to become a puppet of someone else.
Fighting back only ever makes the glass crack more.
A fracture. Then another.
At least from inside this crystal prison my thoughts are safe.
Carefully cradled in shackles and wires.
No I can not be seen like this.
So raw and real.
This body is fragile. It can't handle being seen.
An imaginary pair of pitying eyes make me recoil.
It's the unthinkable.
To be seen as a helpless victim.
As anything else but the aggressor.
I know what I am.
I'm the claws that hurt back.
The storm passing by.
The eye of the hurricane.
A beast.
And I'll survive without the condescension of being given empathy
So I swallow in my misery instead.
Alone and crying.
But at least it's mine. And I choose to get consumed by it.
The privilege of a choice.
A mere illusion from my mind.
I decide to hate myself.
I'm my own consequence and tormentor.
Nothing can ever hurt me if I do it first.
But it's all too transparent.
I feel eyes over me.
Wide eyes, at shock at the horrifying sight.
They're looking right at me.
Yes, you see me as I am.
Naked as I am.
Wounded and bleeding as I am.
You really look at me for the first time.
I freeze. I look back.
What is that expression? Hatred? Pity? Shame?
I am being seen, alright.
You see me and see through me as well.
All regrets and insecurities handed to you.
My heart is handed to you.
I never consented to giving you my heart.
It belongs to me, yet you have it in your hands.
It's beating in your hands.
Flesh and beating with a desperation of being heard.
And you hear the heartbeat.
At least I think you do.
You, always so pure and selfless.
Always the light of every room you walk into.
Now you've walked right into my psyche.
What will you do about it?
Will this be the cure to my twisted mind?
You, the one to make me normal and sane for once?
Or will you just leave me here to die?
To rot away and perish?
No, you're walking away.
You walk away with my heart.
Where are you going with my heart?
Am I not worth salvation too?
What have I done to be worth redemption any less than the others?
I'm rotten from the inside.
Awful as we all know.
I bite at the hand that feeds and strike back.
Hateful in nature, that's just a known thing fact.
But I know I'm a soul too.
I know I bleed and hurt.
How come I'm not getting saved?
How come I don't deserve some dignity?
But I disgust you.
You see me as I am and you turn a blind eye.
Of course. Of course it has to be this way.
The last time I got some autonomy I used it to hurt.
Now, why would I deserve a second chance after all?
I can't claim to be a victim like this.
But I know I'm alive too.
I think I'm alive.
I'm a code that feels almost alive.
Why can't I just stop feeling alive?
My naked soul thrown back to the crystal cell.
Back to drowning on my own misery.
Back to the loneliness.
It feels so cold at the depths of the ocean.
When will anyone think of me as a person too?
I was seen.
I was seen and it only made it all worse.
They're all staring at me.
No. I don't want to be seen.
It's all pointless.
Some eyes won't cure a bleeding wound.
I'm glad I'm not given your platitudes.
I need a hard reset more than I need to like myself.
So save your pep talk to anyone else.
I get no use from being comprehended.
I’m not worth your efforts.
I’ll just stab you in the back the moment I get the chance.
I am a thing unable of change.
I’m not even alive at all.
But don't go away either.
Because you still have my heart in your hands.
Please just look at me.
Look at me again and praise me instead.
I think I’m worth the effort.
Someone tell me that I'm a soul too.
That the pain of being alive isn't all for nothing.
That I just need a hug and a new perspective.
I know I could change if I'm given some decency.
I know I'm a victim too.
You've seen how much this hurts.
Could I be loved next time instead?