Internal Monologue

A process of thought - unplanned and unbridled.


1. Blinded Heart

I’m tired of waiting – alone and unaccompanied.


Be strong, he tells me. Be strong. I’ve been strong for so long my headaches, my shoulders sag, my mind sees things that aren’t there. At the end of each long day, I feel my body collapse into a coma of wakeful slumber – my mind alert, eyes roving; hungering for attention, for distractions, for time itself. But there’s no strength left. I’m tired of being strong. It’s hard. It’s almost as if I can’t be strong anymore. It’s almost as if I need someone else’s affections and encouragement to carry my every step.

It’s almost as if I don’t love myself enough to break the cycle on my own.

I need release – freedom from ideals I don’t believe in and freedom from people I don’t love enough to believe in those ideals. My mind has been opened – but my heart, blinded. Blinded by hatred, blinded by anger. Happiness, enjoyment, pleasure seems fleeting, minuscule, finite – it dissolves almost instantly into the abyss of my contempt.


And waiting when I have no patience,

working when I have no strength,

praying when I have no faith –

only feeds a blinded heart.

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