
Dublin


The words we whisper become loud behind closed doors. The walls ignorant to the heat behind our tongues... and the gasps between our breaths.

Within my skull lies a graveyard of those I've entombed. Locked away in the darkness, they'll never be exhumed. For I am the one now resting in peace. Far less complacent and bearing my teeth.
I don’t know how to exist as “happy”.
I’m realizing that I’m not really having any bad days anymore. Sure I still have bad moments, but the full days of overwhelming sadness and anger have seemingly dissipated. I know this is a good thing because no one should be internally suffering. However, I almost feel like I don’t know how to function without having to fight myself.
Don’t get me wrong though… I like the feeling of mental stability, but I still find myself subconsciously searching for anything to be upset about and I’m not sure why. It’s like my fight-or-flight mode is now panicking with newfound boredom and trying to find anything to stir itself up. Which is fucked I know.
It’s kind of funny though…
I’ve been striving years for this “happiness”. All the meds, therapies, blah blah blah… and now I get here and I’m not sure how to handle it. Now it’s the irony of “how do I manage to survive without exhausting amounts of depression and anxiety?” My head is something else…
Well… here’s to “happiness”. 😏🖤 Cheers.
-Hal




You use words as carrots to dangle in front of my face, But my memory recalls that they hide a bitter taste. All your tricks and temptations fly as red flags in my mind, So I will not entertain a relationship that's been fucked so many times.




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