Forbidden Knowledge

That empty mind.

That heavy heart.

I can’t lose myself.

Urgent.

I write things that just don’t make any sense. I carefully write words as if I’m painting the thinnest line of hair on a human’s head. Why so careful? Why not daring? Try it. Make those words speak. Take them on that journey you’re so scared to go on by yourself. Take them. Bring them along with your empty, busy, crazy, lonely, filled-up mind. Tackle it. Own it. You got it.

Knowledge is power.

Ban the books!

Knowledge is power.

Sitting on my bed,

Catching up on my forbidden words.

I overthink.

I am overthinking.

I pause for a second, only for it to press play again.

I overthink.

I am overthinking.

All the good, the bad, the ugly.

Is it a choice?

Is it an escape?

Is it a plan to create and disassociate?

Tell me.

Do you know the pain?

Do you know of the agony that wreaks havoc into my brain?

It’s more than a prison.

More than shackles and bars.

The chokehold of knowledge, dreams, and the imaginary.

It’s sweet.

I overthink.

I am overthinking.

I need more.

I always need more.

I keep looking for someone to take care of it.

Take care of me.

Of all the things I can do myself.

Why can’t I handle myself?

“She’s all over the place!”

“She’ll never make it!”

“She’s forgettable!”

“Ha Ha Ha! She’s all alone!”

They say, they say, they say.

Yet there’s no response.

I keep as silent as the grave.

Maybe they’ll go away if I don’t retaliate.

Disgusting.

So disgusting.

Putrid.

I’m rotting.

My thoughts, overcooked.

Burnt through and through.

I pause.

For a second,

I pause.

The stillness,

the quiet I so desperately long for.

I crave silence.

A life without words.

They form, and form, and form.

I fold, and fold, and fold, and fold.

Take it away.

The desire to drive a sword through it.

Take it away.

Am I done?

No.

Will I ever be?

Hopefully.

God,

Help me.