Streetlamp Light Disturbs The Midnight Time

ari b. cofer, Unfold: Poetry + Prose

Life is art

Art is beauty

Others are modeled

Life adds to them

Builds up their beauty

I’m carved by life

It takes and takes and takes

I’m art

I’m beauty

That eventually disappears

Because life has taken too much

Wastefulness

I don’t

know

I don’t know

how to stop

Stop the tears from falling

Stop the fears from showing

Stop a life from being wasted

Please stop me

Stop me from wasting my life

Stop wasting a life on me

The heart is supposed to fall

In love,

And for someone

But mine is quiet,

Still at it’s place

It doesn’t beat in sync with someone’s

But it beats for me

I’m not giving it up

But wear it on my sleeve

And treat it gently

“One day she remembered that it wasn’t her job to make everyone happy.”

— Robin Lee

“I’m so unwhole. I don’t know where all the pieces of me are, how to fit them together, how to make them stick. Or if I even can.”

— Kathleen Glasgow, Girl in Pieces

Thoughts run around in your head

Like trying to win a marathon

You want to listen to what is said

Try to pause and halt for some

But you’re distracted

And then they’re gone

It’s staying up at night

Listening to the ticking of the clock,

the sounds from outside.

It's being distracted for just a short time

by the light of the streetlight

shining through the carelessly closed shutters

It’s hoping not having to face the next day

It’s numbing fear

Waking up the next morning,

starting the day with newfound motivation

It’s creeping up throughout the day

Doing the dishes,

writing an essay,

drinking coffee

And suddenly it’s there

Pride and Prejudice (2005) dir. Joe Wright

I sit here and put words on a paper that I otherwise do not dare to say. I don’t know who to talk to. When I mention what I think about I get told that it’s only because things are just not going my way right now. Funny. I suppose things haven’t been going my way last year either. Or the year before that. Or the year before. I don’t remember not feeling like this. These words, there the same. For years now. I’m writing them down because I’m unable to say them to anyone.

I’ve reached out for help before. Got weird looks from people when I told them that I need to talk to someone. Got told that they wouldn’t be able to help me because I just needed to get over this. Everyone feels like this once in a while.

I went there once. Got told I felt like this because I’m not taking control over my life. The situation was uncomfortable. I didn’t go a second time. They asked for feedback afterwards. What was I supposed to say? Thanks for not listening, I still don’t know how to not hate myself. How to not cry. How to make my chest stop hurting. How to stop feeling like I’m drowning.

Now the thought of talking to someone is even scarier. I don’t like to talk to people anyway. What if I take all my courage and ask for help again, only to be told it’s my own fault? I know it’s my fault. I tell myself that every day. I don’t need another person telling me the same.