conversations with my diary

Conversations with my diary


Conversations with my diary, a book of lined pages and leather cover and a belt to hold it ishut, the ink is a blade and the pages my skin, I find myself cutting each day. They get deeper as I flip pages, unfolding secrets that I tell myself in between heartbeats. That I whisper to parts of me when no one is listening,[ like my hands… dear hands, today you will write, tell him that I am still here. Hold that pen and etch my name into his soul.. a permanent tattoo. ]
I tell you what I can’t voice because no one ever seems to be listening. I tell them I’m fine and they look into my eyes but don’t see the girl banging her fists against the glass mirror begging to be released. They only see what they want to see. I let them see what they need to see. These scars will scare them. The truth will trap them. I am not seeking pity just a mutual understanding, just “I know how you feel” would suffice even if it was a lie. Just for today. Spare me a few seconds without judgment, no echoes of “you poor thing” or “I don’t understand” or “it’s not that bad” because it is that bad, it hurts me every day, leaves me questioning my existence.
Dear Diary, why am I here? Why do I breathe? Why does it hurt when he walks by me and doesn’t see me? it feels like pins and needles in my heart when i breathe and try to hold back the flood that threatens to break lose every time I’m in the same room with him but to him I’m a piece of furniture, I’m part of the air circulating in the room. I’m just one of those people that you happen to see in the street because they were in your line of vision. I tell you what I can’t voice cause no one is ever listening.

there are days when these cuts are too deep, when they bleed and pages keep flipping and get damp from tears. finger tips numbing. its intense. its not pretense. you cant pretend to love someone the way i love him.  even though some days these cuts are shallow, the barely scrape the surface, on those days, my words barely fill the page, just a few lines.. diary i wanna die today, he hates me. diary i'm depressed he saw me today and turned to walk in the other direction. diary, it hurts,, i know you told me to get over him, i swear i'm working on it but it hurts. please dont tell anyone i still talk about him, i still think about him and pray for him and carry his spirit with me everywhere i go.

lets save this conversation for another time. thank you for listening diary..
tbc