By Sana Noor, Guest Blogger
Your lungs have learnt how to constrict. They know the cha-cha-cha of forgetting how to breathe. Your eyes remain in constant downcast not knowing about chocolates and oceans residing in others. Your voice only soothes your ears, a lullaby only your heart knows.
Anxiety is etched onto your skin
like a tattoo under a drunken ordeal.
Your arms have learned to hold you close, a shield to a world you find hard to integrate in. Your shoulders are hunched and your strides calculated. You and I both know that the butterflies in your stomach and the sweaty palms are much more brutal before a performance. And you have no idea what’s happened until you get off that stage.
Your mind plays tricks
No adventure ever accounted for.
The world does not understand because the loud and opinionated leader comes natural to them. You may be the child of the life of the party, but these values and life lessons you never understood. You may think before a single step, sometimes foregoing the very idea because no one ever taught you the proper way of using your head. I may call you deaf and dumb but only because your voice will only be heard by a special few. I’ve felt the walls close in around me and shortness of breath almost as if I had run a marathon. The future scares me. Tomorrow scares me. Meeting new people scares me.
Each life has its own purpose,
each person his own self.
And I want to meet new people. I want to make friendships with interesting and quirky people. But I’m scared. And my anxiety feeds off that fear. Adding fuel to the fire.
I can knock you hard on your head but I will never be able to make you think the same as me because each mind is different and beautiful and unique. Our voices only like the taste of some ears and our hearts beat the same except hers could bleed colours and his could bleed songs.
There’s nothing wrong with the way you were born. But there is everything wrong with perceiving yourself as anything but beautiful.
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Sana Noor is a Grammar fanatic, simply loves the colour blue, anything with a history, and Florence and the Machine. Her heart bleeds poetry and believes in the art of the handwritten letter.
image via The Mindful Word