some days i call my zero days the desert nothing moves, nothing evolves, everything is dried up i'm a robot i'm on auto pilot i feel nothing from the moment i open my eyes to when i lay back down all i've done was moving my hands and my feet. my brain, my heart, have been asleep all day some days i call my hermit days i feel like the sun is constantly turned off like my shoulder are heavier than elephants like my mind runs faster than a cheetah yet it moves like a turtle i feel every raindrop on my skin i feel the sun burning every single cell of my skin yet i can't dance under the sky my body won't move, my thoughts are too heavy some other days i can't help it. they are sometimes part of hermit days, or they just exist on their own. i can't help but feel unpretty. inside out. why is my hair a mess why is my body so large why is my brain so sad why is my life so empty why are my hands shaking so much why can't i talk why can't i decide why why why i wear yoga pants and a blanket burrito-ed around my chest to keep my heart both warm and safe please don't reach out please reach out please don't touch me please put your arms around me please don't ask me to go out i won't be able to look okay enough for me to like myself my brain plays a lot of tricks on me some days i can shut it up i understood your little game, it won't work on me not today, sweetheart i know you're telling me lies i know you're making everything too dramatic life isn't that heavy planet earth isnt't on your shoulders it doesn't revolve around you i fight agasint it i don't believe it i see pretty things about me i do pretty things some other days i listen to it i believe its tricks all my body will accept to do is wait for the night to rescue me sometimes you just have to live through your unlovely days you have to go through them and say you've survived even if it's just little mountains surviving is surviving. day by day, you find your keystones things that make your heart lighter, your smile easier, your day brighter. singing your heart out, writing, running, dancing, whatever eases your living. then one day, you get out of bed and it doesn't feel like surviving anymore it just feels like living. to all of you soft, anxious hearts, we beat to the same rhythm. we will always have mountains. ups and downs. zero, hermit, happy, overjoyed days. we will have worse and better days. but for the days you are hurt, welcome to the club. all you need is a blanket.
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Marjorie BérubéJ'écris pour calmer les tempêtes dans ma tête et pour faire le ménage dans les mots qui s'y entrechoquent. Archives
Décembre 2019
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