Empty Stares | Wake Me Up
Anxiety, regret, insecurity, and strength. Getting to know myself again is a war zone, with weapons I can’t put down...
Ari and Alanis are my best friends.
I feel like nobody sees me.
(How could they when I can’t trust
myself enough to risk being seen?)
I don’t reach out
and it hurts
and I’m scared.
I walk down the frozen streets
smiling at every stranger passing by
and suddenly I realized I’m shattered
at every empty stare back.
(But when they look at me, I can’t meet their eyes.)
I used to be that girl who just couldn’t help
but smile at a stranger,
who lived for walking alone
through crowded streets and shops.
Now… I just need to know
someone else is alive here with me,
and that the pain
in my eyes… no…
I need to know that I’m not invisible.
Not because my loved ones haven’t been there
(hello guilt, hey shame too)
but because I haven’t been seeing myself.
Awareness is killing me;
I’m raw, a wound with legs and a voice.
I reject just what I’m seeking in myself
then call upon inspiration for what I deny.
and it’s a messy job.
I’m surrounded by love, and
sometimes gratitude eats me alive.
It’s just learning how to open up
and let it all in,
to be vulnerable without
those subtly masochistic motives.
Who the hell am I,
how do I let her out?
She’s bold and kind and funny af.
I want to know her.
Like Tiny Rick,
I’m begging you to let me out,
just let me out,
I’m dying in this body.
This is a cry for help
that I’ll never let you answer.
Teach me how to be bold,
teach me how to trust again.
Goddamn, why is it so hard to say ‘hello,’ and make a new friend?