Poetry It Will Be Okay

Tartaglia

astarion ✧⁠*⁠。
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Roleplay Type(s)
(Meant to be a spoken poetry)

Your eyes were bright and so were your smiles.
Everything just seemed alright.
Nobody knew, nobody cared.
Nobody bothered to ask if you're even hanging on.

So you continued to smile, continued to laugh
Continued to be cheerful just for the sake of fitting in.
And nobody cared if that was fake. Nobody did
Because they never bothered to ask if you were okay.

And everyone likes you.
They all compliment your cheerful personality
And suddenly, everything is great
You felt like you were fitting in even when you were being fake

And suddenly, you felt tired of keeping all of these emotions in
They slowly piled up on top of one another
And you tried. You desperately tried so hard to tell yourself that it will be okay.
That you'll be okay.

But you knew you were lying.
You knew that's fake, just like all those smiles you've worn.
And then, you just didn't know what was real anymore.
Were you really happy? Were you really smiling?
⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀
And you know, deep down that you're not.
You were desperately sending secret messages that you weren't okay
Screaming silently for someone to come and save you
Desperately clinging onto a shred of hope because who knows?
Maybe that guardian angel of yours will finally come rushing towards you and scoop you in their arms, safe and sound.


Safe and sound..
Have you ever felt like that before?
Or were you crouching low in fear of the world?
You were silently wishing that someone will rush to your aid just like the superheroes in movies do.
You were silently wishing that someone will notice.
You were silently wishing that people would care.
You were silently, desperately, pathetically wishing that someone would hold you tight and never let you go while they whisper the words

"You'll be okay" in your hopeful ears

Because you were tired. Tired of being alone.
Tired of being afraid.
Tired of being hurt.
Tired of being played around.
Tired of hiding in the closet.
Tired of the world.
Tired of yourself.
Tired of everything.
Tired of being tired.

And that's okay. That's okay.
I understand that, I understand all too well.
I...understand

And I know it's tough
And I know you want to give up.
And I know you feel like the whole weight of the sky is on your shoulders.
And I know you feel like nothing is ever going to be okay and you'd be better of dead.

I know that.
I know that.

And let me tell you this.

You are loved.
You are beautiful.
You are you.

And being yourself is a brave thing to do.
Telling the world that you've finally come out of the closest is a brave thing to do.
Admitting that you're hurt is a brave thing to do.
Seeking for help is a brave thing to do.
Crying...crying is a brave thing to do.

And you know?
Celebrating your birthday is the bravest thing you can ever do.
You did it.
You've survived another year.
You held on.
You didn't give up.

Maybe you hurt yourself.
Self harmed, taken pills
But still...
You chose to do that rather than directly kill yourself.
Because you still had hope.
You still had hope that everything will be okay.
And I think that's beautiful, in a twisted way, it's still beautiful.
You've hurt yourself but you never ended it.

Thank you.
For holding on.

One day, you'll make someone happy just by being alive.
One day, you'll hear the words

"Thank you, for existing."

And the tears will come.
And your chest will ache.
And you would have trouble breathing.
But you'll be okay.
It will be okay.

Things will be okay.

Maybe not today.

But someday

Someday, you'll achieve the happiness you deserve.
 

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