Overthinking February 15

Today, I was asked to write about what I think, it could be anything they said.

Anything? I thought.

Usually, I always have a penny for my thoughts but, at the moment, my mind came up blank, like a printer without ink, spitting paper

I wondered what I could write about. Anything, they said.

Anything? I thought.

I’m afraid to voice my thoughts. They’re too grave, too dark to share, an odd look inspiring words will spill what sanity I hold

It’s an important day, it’s an opportunity to declare, what I have always wanted to say. But do I speak into the void? Do I speak my mind?

I’ve been saying the same things again and again, now they’ve lost meaning and yet I can’t stop, like the runaway train, crossing through valleys, cutting through mountains

Again and again, the agony doesn’t go away. What mirage is this? Why, even after so long, do I find myself right where I began?

Never moved an inch, imagination it has been, life until now and the reality is stuck somewhere between the pages of a diary I may once have filled with ink that I have run out of.

So do I take a pencil now, and write? Anything? I thought.

Happy birthday, papa. You’d have crossed 60 years by now. We’d have celebrated with a cake and candles, maybe some balloons and lots of wishes for your long life.

Life gave up before we did, sometimes I think we still wait for you to come home, announcing as you would, voice resounding in the hallway.

I’d rush downstairs to see what you’ve brought for me. Chocolate truffle again? I’d eat it with happy thoughts.

Happy memories, with a sprinkle of bitterness. Years have passed but nothing has changed. Except everything, and yet nothing. The pain doesn’t leave me, the longing doesn’t go away.

But most of all, the nightmares are here, they’ve always been here. Sometimes you’re in them, and sometimes I’m alone. And sometimes when I cannot sleep, I overthink and over eat.

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