“For you, a thousand times over.”

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  • chidera 38w

    I am hurting but no one will ask me why
    Or if I am okay
    Or if their actions are okay
    Or if I deserved what I got

    I am suffering for waking up
    And finding a bloody knife in my hands
    They are bleeding and say I hurt them
    But I don’t know how I did or meant to

    I am hurting but no one will have mercy
    They think I am okay cause I don’t bleed
    They make plans and I nod in atonement
    They’re moving on while I’m moving mad.


  • chidera 38w

    Let’s take things back to the way they are
    The time has run its course
    Our path have become diverged roads
    All things have come to an end
    Happiness lies on a new map.


  • chidera 38w

    They come to you for their sake
    They smile at you just to have something
    They care about you because it helps them

    When you don’t have
    When they can no longer profit
    When their aim isn’t the end goal

    They fall back
    They keep silent
    They retrace steps

    You sit there wondering
    You walk with confusion
    You sleep with unrested fears

    People want something from you
    And so they do things just to get it
    It is not about you but their own goal

    And you live and laugh oblivious
    Thinking someone cares about you
    Believing it was all meant for your good

    When you discover the new reality
    You are not mad. You are not angry.
    You understand it was for their own good.

    You realise that it was hurtful for them too
    And you’ll let it go. You’ll ignore the pain inside.
    Although you feel bad, you’ll wish them happiness.

    But you’ll trust people and let them in less
    Wonder why they never considered you and
    Never know who will stay nor why they stay.


  • chidera 39w

    This city is filled with lights
    Overflown with hopes and dreams
    Hidden pains and painted up smiles
    Everyone waiting for their luck to turn

    These city lights are camouflage
    This place paved with gold is full of lack
    Beautiful streets and disheartened people
    Not all luck turns and dashed dreams abound.


  • chidera 49w

    I don’t know if this came out right. Have a nice day everyone

    “If you’re self-conscious of your inadequacies, you need to work on removing the inadequacies not the self-consciousness” - Jordan Peterson

    I’ve seen this message before, two weeks ago (or was it three?). I looked at it once, I nodded a silent agreement and I went past it like I never saw it. It jumps at me this morning, its every word forming bit by bit, unfolding in my sleepless brain. I have always been searching for a way to have silence. For a way to never have to fear or run or hear them anymore. Perhaps I’ve been in a futile journey of trying to avoid what is right in front of me. Trying to evade the broken pieces that keep begging to be put back in place. Maybe all I was ever meant to do was sit in the deafening silence of my mind scattering into pieces and wait. Wait till the time where I can see the holes to be fixed. But I never make it. It’s too much. It’s too hard to keep still in a burning furnace. It’s not easy to face fragments of myself that never seem to make peace with one another, each bleeding and tearing the other apart. I’ve tried to stay in that moment and countless more but I leave, I hide, I run, I drown, I flee and never look them in the eye.

    I want to try again. I want to test the fire again. I want to hang on till I can see the lights sneak in through the cracks. I am scared. I have no knowledge of what I am to do. I am trying to be able to look at myself without wanting to claw at myself. I want to breathe in oxygen without feeling like an undeserving waste. I want to breathe out all the angst, shame, worry, fear, depression without wishing my lungs would follow suit. I do not want to have amnesia anymore. I do not want to forget the dark roads I have had to walk. I do not want to run away from the pain, from myself, from life, from death; from anything. Frankly speaking, I am tired of running. Wait, that’s not right. I am not tired of running. I am tired of escaping myself and the realisation that I am worth nothing and there is no purpose. I am tired of the shame that never stops following me around. I want to be normal, whatever normal is; anything that is not this.

    Alcohol does not help me.
    Drugs, they never helped me.
    Sleep never relieved my pain.
    Love has led me to more pain.

    I am going to try. Little by little. A tiny fault being fixed, an ugliness being reshaped, a mistake being made anew, holes being filled—me being whole again. It’s hard. Always been hard. But perhaps he is right. Perhaps, I have to change the things that scare and haunt me.

    I wonder if I’ll love me when I become perfect. I most certainly wonder if perfection is something I can attain. Lastly, I wonder if it’ll ever be worth it, finding reasons to fight when I’m ready to rest.


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    1. A gift and a curse
    2. I know and then I know too much
    3. I fall and then I fall harder
    4. It tells you when something isn’t right and
    sometimes, those can be untrue
    5. Failures become permanent stains
    6. These voices will never leave you
    7. You’ll always know more to never have peace
    8. Sometimes, it acts as your saviour
    9. You need it to keep the pain from spilling to others
    10. Sometimes, all it tells is that you’re still in there



  • chidera 52w


    It hurts. I’m trying my best but it’s not enough. I want to be strong but it’s so lonely. You’re breathing on my goddamn neck and it hurts. I hate it. I don’t want it. I’m tired. I wish I could run. I do run. Run into pain like it’s all I’ve ever known. I hate looking at myself in the mirror. I am so ashamed because I don’t even recognise myself anymore. I’m just breathing and breathing and breathing and breathing and breathing but I’m dying and dying, going down and down and I get more lost and lost. I’m so broken that I don’t even cry anymore. I force myself to, so these things will leave me, but I can’t make myself cry. I’m just in pain. I’m just hurting. I’m just tired. But I’ll be fine. I am going to be fine. I won’t let anything break me. I’ll keep trying.

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    It’s funny how the world expects you to heal yourself when you didn’t break yourself. They hurt you, destroy you and leave you to find the reason why as a consolation and to do the healing on yourself by yourself. They tell you to not become a burden to others, directly and indirectly.

    “It’s your cross, carry it.”

    You were perfect and someone broke you, yet they tell you to not sulk about the life snatched from you but rather take responsibility for someone else’s transgressions. No one wants a broken toy but nobody ever learns how not to make broken toys and lost souls.


  • chidera 68w

    My head is like a small room looking from the outside but it is an ocean sized land filled with mines. I tiptoe around danger spots and I try to stay alive while I run to get out. There is a black and white painted line on the floor and above it lies a banner that says “Finish line”. I have crossed that line many times and it has un-crossed me all the time. I run past the line and the line gets up, a clown blows the smokes drawn from a cigarette, there’s a trumpet sound and out of it comes a cardboard with a note “Tricked ya! It’s just a little bit further up front. Keep running or tap dance with half body parts.” And I’ve been doing that. For years now. I have been running. I have been close and too far away. Every time I reach that line, I pray it is the one. But it’s been years now and I’m tired of running.

    I don’t think there was ever meant to be an end but I don’t understand why I don’t stop.


  • chidera 68w

    I have always been wild
    I was never seen gentle or meek
    I wrestled with boys and punches
    I ran away from rules and more rules.

    I haven’t always been like this
    I was never walking like a boy
    I took this cover for protection
    I ran away from pain and more pain.

    I do not know how to be un-wild
    I was never clawing at my throat
    I starve and punish to find release
    I keep running from light and more light.

    I wish to be normal. I wish to be sane.
    I was never counting days to sleep
    I haven’t stopped bleeding and hurting
    I have been dying ever since I escaped death.

    I do not know who I am anymore
    I breathe but I do not know why
    I am good at only running
    I am afraid of being with myself.


  • chidera 69w

    You make me wait
    Alone. In the dark.
    You are waiting
    For a grand moment
    The time you finally
    Take me out and
    Twirl me around
    For everyone to see
    When all I really want is
    To touch the curves of your face
    A cup of coffee with you
    A walk in the cool evening
    The same jokes over and over,
    Just a good morning and hello
    To fall in love with you again.


  • chidera 69w

    Pain is calling my name
    She says she still loves me
    He says I am the one now
    But I have changed lines
    I am comfortable with me—
    I’d kiss him & never want him.