Me Fix Me

Aabid Shivji
Jul 24, 2017 · 3 min read

Muddy mind

Muddy eyes

Everything seems so messy I

Ask why I

Even try to try

Thoughts are always all over the place

I always find myself in the middle of a chase

For my sanity

As if I’m always in calamity

Some level of depravity

That I can’t trace

Look in the mirror and feel too stupid to even safe face

At times I look inside and seem to make a good case

To not feel this paranoia

The anxiety’s an annoyance

Of course everybody thinks that, there’s really nothing new

But the pointlessness of these feelings is my main cause of issue

Which is why even though that inner voice speaks the truth

I feel sorry for myself despite the abundance of the proof

I have great friends

There are no sympathies being lent

No false care being sent

I’m sure it’s just my mindset

Is that something I can change though?

Have I let myself get too low?

Maybe these questions are what’s sticking me in this crappy mold

I know it’s time to be bold

On that I’m pretty sold

And I do quite well till my brain forgets that its already been told

To stop

And in that case I plop

Right back into the place where my efforts flop

I gotta calm myself down

Get rid of this frown

But maybe I need some help in my efforts to get off the ground

This isn’t very profound

Yet for failure I’m bound

Unless I look myself in the face and remind me of the sound

Of self-affirmation

Repetition means persuasion

The project only works if its shape gets a facelift

I have to reorient, learn to prioritize for real

Can’t get hung up on stupid stuff like who I’m with for my meal

Make my heart hard like steel

Once again refuse to peel

Because in that frame of reference is my only real shield

Letting my guard down is the reason

I experience sadness season

Year-round

Unbound

I’m always so tightly wound

Because of it, what gives?

But is there a me that really lives?

Seems I’m too worried to dive in

Afraid the water will go way past my chin

That I’ll drown in the aftermath of having emotion

And this fear keeps me numb

When I act on it some

People tell me to forget about it because my precautions are dumb

They’re probably right too

Having friends is nice, true

But with them comes the worry that I’ll again end up blue

The central question for me

The answer for which I plea

Is whether I’ll ever manage to actually see

How my existence should shape up

If I’ll forever have to play dress up

But for that to happen I have to work on a whole ‘nother level

Get ready to make some noise like I’m steam in a hot kettle

Make sure my effort is solid like the world’s hardest metal

Problem is, I don’t really know how

The idea is really great and I’m sure it’d make mom proud

And I can wave it like a flag and pretend to be loud

But that won’t change the fact that when it’s over I’ll feel exactly how I do now

Please help me, I barely know who you are, or why you’re even listening

But I’m running out of options, and the bulb in my mind is about to stop glistening

Please help me, I don’t understand why the hell you’re still listening

I’m running out of options, and I can’t tell if my light is even shimmering

    Aabid Shivji

    Written by

    Not an expert, but I write sometimes.