Let Go

Two hooks, each bit down, gripped, and hung to the arid atmosphere of my old sea. With prominent spinal cords stretching down, making the living that I am, seem dead.

The hooks were held by the ropes, which held the mountain I long pulled, and dragged.

My bare, and grazed feet, barely lived with their wounds, and their cuts. My body; composed of nothing but skin that covered bones, and small, dangling little arms, hanging like broken chandeliers. I was a broken chandelier; the kind antique stores would keep locked in basements.

 My rainless lips, two other hooks, on each end, stretched it upwards, and dug itself into the ends of my brows. For the people who passed, for the people to see me bright, for the mountain to be hidden.

And a layer of burning wax, poured itself down, and covered the features I have butchered.

But I still walked, and I still dragged.

 Dear,

Whoever's reading this.

We all have them.  Those days when we just want to crawl inside a room with no windows, no people. Just yourself, with yourself. We all felt empty, we all felt as though we deserve absolutely nothing, we all despised ourselves, we all put ourselves down, and have others put us down. Really, it’s typical.  And typically, you’d expect me to say something like “Be strong, and keep moving!”  Or “Don’t give up!” and “Don’t let others get you down!” But, I’m not going to say that, what I am going to is: You’re stupid.  Why? Because I was trying to think of something you wouldn’t expect, and that’s the first thing that came up.

What I am going to say is, it’s alright. It’s okay to fall apart, it’s okay to cry, it’s okay to feel like an invisible bubble floating around careless heads, it’s okay to fake a smile every single Goddamn day, because you know, none of them will ever understand what hides beneath. It’s fine. Really, cry your soul out, cry until your eyes dry out, if you must. Cry until your heart’s dried out, until nothing’s left inside. Just, let it out. Scream, if you have to.

Just, breathe.

Why? Because we always hear the same damn ‘motivational’ statements, quotes, or whatever the hell you call them, but we never actually listen. Why? Because we’re being told, and because we’re taking our emotional baggage, throwing it somewhere in the back, and forgetting about it, convincing ourselves we’ve moved on. But then, when a spark pulls it back again, humpty-dumpty has a great fall, all over again.  Calling all the king’s horses, and his men, to somehow put him together again.  But, the question is, is he really put back together again, if he’s just going to sit back on that wall, and fall again?

The problem is, we don’t face our pain, and instead, we throw it, and forget it until that certain moment that strikes, pulls us down, and smashes us to the ground. The solution though, is… quiet obvious now. Face them. Sit down, in your room, alone. And just think. Council yourself, and become your own therapist. Now I’m not going to lie, and say you’ll feel ten times better in a matter of minutes. No, the time the pain will take depends on how long it takes you to seize it. It’s a kind of, a proportionated-relationship. If your negative thoughts increase, your pain increases. And if they decrease, your pain decreases. The process however, depends on you, and you only. Though to begin that process, you'll need yourself, positivity, and Allah.

Then maybe, you’d stop dragging that mountain, the hooks would unhook, and the wax would melt away.

This though, is coming from a pessimistic outcast. So maybe it’s not you; maybe it’s just me. I have this habit of throwing away all my emotional baggage, and somehow calling it ‘moving on’. But, if you are like me, in a way. Then, let go. Just, let go.

Sincerely,

Maryam. Just, Maryam.