Memories I

I have to remember
There will be days where I cannot do anything but remember
There will be days where my memories will be used against me
They will remind of times 

People who were gone too early; by choice or not

They will remind of times 

That I was gone while still alive

They will remind of times

I wanted to be gone and survived

I am not my memories anymore

I know they were real for me then

But I am still real now 

and now is where I want to stay 

hearing

If I sit down and say nothing, did I say anything

If my voice is a whisper, would you still listen

If my voice said everything that you didn't want to hear, would you listen then

If I stood up in a room full of strangers and screamed would anyone lend me an ear

Am I too loud for you now, or should I quiet down so you don't hear me anymore

My voice is mine, when I one day leave, everyone must've heard then

where did she go?

We are crying together
The strife that was normalized
The want that was lost where I would construct what I envisioned in my dreams
The loss of that will and the passive existence
We are screaming out loud now
I can't feel it
We are pushing to action now
We want to run
But we don't run, we stay in place
Now we are frozen
I have no idea where she went
Does she want to know where I am?

unthreateningly

I appear soft spoken and incapable of anger and hate

I am the picturesque human that appears to you as vulnerable and empathetic

I look like you're average damsel in distress, a mother-like figure, a helpless fawn in the wild that will be devoured by the lions as they can smell fear or self-doubt and a tad lack of confidence.

I could crumble at mere touch, a look here and there and I am unstabilized

I appear to others as too deeply empathetic, I should be incapable of leading or initiating, that I can't stand up for myself or others

Truth be told, I actually have a hidden stinger like someone hides their crossed fingers when they make a promise they don't tend to keep

I am short tempered and I deal instantaneous emotional pain for resolve, truly it's vengeance, an eye for an eye

I do not measure my words nor do I filter them, I choose the combination of words that will inflict the most injury with no possibility of being misunderstood, I do not care for the response or the fall out. I expect to have burnt that bridge a million times over by the time the message is received.

I will look back one day, in the moment all that matters is the anger that I don't want to bottle up in the corner anymore, I want to hold my bottle at you and let it all spill out, I want to leave you there over what has been spilt to remind you not to cause a spill again

What if depression is my primary identity?

What if I've woken up defeated one day and said this is me and that's it, end of story

What if my gut feelings and my depression are so intertwined that I don't know wrong from right 

What if I find it easier to stay where I am 

Would it be so bad

Then the days come where the drastic events unfold and I realize why that staying stagnant will not get me where I want 

That greener grasses, warm deserts with a refreshing pond in the damn middle is not a distant possibility, depression has been reading the stories morphing the endings and exaggerating the will and motivation needed to get there, because it only takes one single choice at a time, it only takes one small decision a day for your day to day to sway in a different direction even if only momentarily

That you don't have to be living a fairytail where you're the princess and the villain is always intertwined with your destiny, with your story, or where you actually turn out to be the villain out of a very tragic, traumatizing backstory because I don't want a fairy tail, I don't want to be the villain of someone's story, I want peace and I want to have what I desire, to be free to make choices, to switch things up if need be, I never want to be stuck if I can help it