You are a puzzle. Silhouette black, a jigsaw. You are something ebbing from your being, you have built those China walls; to keep you. You are frustration wrapped in confusion. Frustrated at – you. You have allowed life take its toll on you. You have let it steal the curve on your lips, let it snatch your hope and made you believe you are a failure for getting sacked at your workplace, for the rejection from a friend, for the red on your grade points, there is no explanation for it – you are a failure, so you believe. And because of this, you take no chances, not anymore.

You have been tossed in bed against your will, slapped across the face without any wrong, the past is still your present and you dwell therein, everyday. You simply will not move on, you are tied to the orlay you believe is the cause of your life. You are exhausted. The storm never stops, even amidst the clouds. You feel empty; devoid of everything and then again, nothing. You know this is not how to live, but you do not know what other way. You want to be that writer, because your type of writer do not always win those contests, or that singer – after all your friends have told you to find another passion, anyone but you. You are simply not good enough. Day in, night out, same old fatigue, exhausted at how you live; unsatisfied and complex.

You are what some want to be, but you are not ‘some’. You are beautiful, your smile can lit up a room, your charisma is alluring, yet all these do not appeal to you. You are fixated on all the negatives. You say you are not insecure, yet you have looked in the mirror ten times before going to get something in the next street, still when people at you, you know for sure it is because of your bowed legs or the very black skin you inherited from Grandma. Baby, how do you look in the mirror and not see that you are perfect?

You have tried over and over to tap into your being, but you seek validation from others and that is two opposite forces. You are the shiny eyes, smiling face at day. When darkness erupt, you are reclining into your mattress, swollen eyed. You hear music, but do not listen and that is why you do not resonate to the lyrics that speaks of you. You are surrounded by friends but you push away, stay away, you are isolated in your covert. Nobody understands! and that’s your excuse. ‘It’s just depression’, but hasn’t it always been just depression? And have you even ever recovered? You are gold, hidden in dirty places. And then there are days when you can smile, from the head, obviously not from the heart. Days when you are happy, but they do not last. You are now immune to pain, you welcome it, because real happiness is hard to come by, and pain is easy.

You have been broken by love. Love warmed you, kissed you in secret places, eased your urges, loved you. Then again, it broke you into tiny fragments, ruined you, and your heart has now been formed into crystalline glacier; incapable of loving.

You must fight. To heal. And this you do everyday and fail at every pursuit of happiness. But you must have happiness, you must love again. To live again. You will fight until you win this depressed being, You should seek help from a source higher than your being and sing lyrics to Him until you cry out all of your helplessness. He will find you and you will find your essence. You are not a coward. You are not incapable, insufficient. You are none of the negative suffixes. You must believe you can live your dreams in this reality. You must tap into you.

Life must not win. Find love again, dance into the hall of opportunities and by any means, take it. Go to Bheerhugz on a date with yourself. Love you, get crazily in love with you.  Heal, by all means. Live life, don’t let it live you. You are a puzzle that can be arranged, you will form again, this time; a flawless picture.

by Elizabeth Joshua

Feature Image from brainpickings.org