Perturbed

It has been a long while since the last time I wrote a poem. I was thinking that I might have lost that “side” of me. I have always been (and forever will be) an emotional person. My friends would sometimes describe it as disturbed emotions. I am an EMOTERA* – heart and soul. Poetry has been my catalyst. It is where I am able to express all my feelings and sentiments; all my thoughts. My inspiration when I write is my experiences. I cannot say that I am not inspired for not writing poems lately. There has been a lot (as in A LOT) going on with me for the last couple of months now. And these “happenings” are not the usual happenings that go on everyday. They are the sort of happenings that keep me from sleeping early at night; keep my mind away from work; and keep my heart from healing, and instead, it opens the scars that are not quite healed yet.

You are probably wondering why I am letting it “happen”. Why can’t I just let it pass? Why can’t I just move on and let it go? Well, I have been trying to figure out the answers to these questions for a very long time now. The pursuit for answers had already caused me a part of my dignity. And yet, the quest continues. I still am searching, trying to find out what it is that seizes me to move on and let go.

At this point, I am not sure what to do next; uncertain of my feelings. I know that I want to save what has left of me. But I am not sure how to do it and if I can do it. I feel weak. I am weak.