thirtieth

i used to feel like i was treading in sea, slightly drowning inside. i used to feel my pulse beat like thunder in my own head. through, and through, and thoroughly against. like vastness of waves crashing to the shores of reckless walls-
that i built like a cage around my chest, out of hurt in disguise.

and cemented by bucketfuls of resent-filled ego
                               in refusal to make home in the hearts of man

and here i lie, as if all of me feels stained
staring blankly as words pour out of me -
the melted wax harden by the winds blowing
through my balcony.
making curtains dance
with gracefulness i lack....

i want to be able to believe again,
and i want to be able to give all of me.

not in cowardly fragments as i have done...
and without wearing my tongue and heart in my sleeves
i have been tiptoeing myself on fields of landmines.
faking apathy - but fully knowing otherwise

                                                      i want to be able to feel something again.