My Conflict

It's hard, isn't it?

Putting all those energy

Analysing your steps meticulously

Only to still feel empty within

I mean, you try to do much because everyone always seems ahead of you

So you pile on the works and add loads on the list to-do

"Maybe if I do these I would feel accomplished"

But here you are, back in the ghost room, feeling empty

Everyday is a day you hope for something different

Some ray of hope, for pessimistic thoughts not to descend

Some feeling of "today we are going to do our best"

Seems like you passing the exam but failing the test

You are in your room that's never clean

As disorganised as your thoughts within

And you hope that cleaning it up would bring some type of peace

Only to watch it messed up again within minutes

Conflict in emotions

Thoughts on rotation

Pen in agitation

Prayers in desperation

You wonder if you'll ever find true peace

If such a thing even ever exist

You wish you could learn how to be proud of yourself

But such is too high on your mental shelf

You have people telling you how proud of you they are

But you don't see it, not even with lens on

You could call it trauma, hell, it might just be

Like a darkness that prevails even with lights on

So are you with me? Or lost in the relatability of my thoughts

I mean, sometimes , misery does love company

But you know, you are surrounded still by those who wouldn't let go

They love you, even though you find it hard to believe on the low.