#don't post at 5am lads

[lia404]

When I was young, I tried to build a tower But it was never the right height Shorter than I was big Taller than I was worth And it was never strong enough

Did you realize? You made me build it on quicksands

In the end, I gave up on my tower Like you had, maybe. You had to grow up too fast because of your mistakes So I had to grow up too fast because of your mistakes Sometimes I wish the foundations of my tower Hadn't been swallowed by the ruins of yours

Is it selfish of me? You did your best.

I think my younger self would have enjoyed seeing the world from above But how can you miss something you've never known?  Keeping my feet rooted in the dirt had to do That's what good girls do

And if the ground was still quicksands? Ah,  You taught me well.

I often wished you wouldn't resent me Because you gave up on your tower I did my best to follow I stopped being young But I remained cumbersome So I forgot the tower ever existed

Until now When they tried to build me a tower

It was so high it left me dizzy I wanted to love it But there were so many stones Surrounded by a lake of tears One drop for each stone that they gave me That you couldn't give me

Do you know how much it hurts? When they say "you deserve the best" And all you know to answer is "I'm sorry"

They wanted me to stand at the top And I wanted it too! But as much as I love heights I knew what lies beneath The quicksands and dirty roots It was a fall waiting to happen

What did they see in me that you didn't?

I wonder if you're trying to build your tower again But mine has grown tall, unexpected And I won't let you steal the stones

And I may not be a good girl But maybe I am a good me

Because they built me a tower even taller Than the one I imagined when I was a child And although the ruins will never disappear I won't let your quicksands destroy it

It has been hard for me to accept It still is, often But no matter the ground it stands on It's my own tower And I deserve it.

---

Is it something I do now? Post my cheesy writing on Tumblr? Really?

I should know better.

I posted this on Instagram on the 1st of October, 2022. I was about to leave a job filled with people who estimated me a whole lot--much more than I did myself. I haven't grown with towers. My therapist said and said that if people kept building me towers, maybe it was because I did something that was strong enough for them to want to pick up the stones. Or well. She didn't use these words. I just like weird metaphors.

I wrote this as a spur-of-the-moment thing, like I used to do back then (because apparently past me thought Instagram was the best platform to post flash fiction and gratuitous poetry. Hashtag genius.)

Upon reading, one of my best friends threw a loving rock at me. She knows me too well.

Back then, I was about to take a leap of faith, leave something that I didn't like much but was comfortable, with people I didn't have much in common with but who I was fond of, and it was hard to leave. I was getting ready to dive into the unknown. (You'd think after so many times taking such dives it'd get easier, but it never ceases being daunting.)

It's two years and a half later and the unknown has welcomed me with open arms; one of the best decisions I've ever made, really.

And gosh, but are they building me another tower now. And although it still feels uncomfortable, like they picked the rocks by mistake, like they're building the tower for the wrong person, even so, I know this one is deserved, because I've walked the path since then, my therapist should be proud.

Except.

Except the unknown was welcoming, and new towers were built (how? why?) but

the quicksands

always

come back.

It's 36 months and finances are making me leave a job I love dearly, with people I love even more dearly, who for some know more about me than my family of quicksand-makers.

And I'm crying, but these people--the ones who signed "your family" when my surgery didn't go well, when they got together to plot a get-well present from all damn timezones because god forbid we can just walk and get a coffee together--these people keep adding stones.

The tower is getting swallowed again and yet they keep adding stones, and crying over the quicksands, and yelling at the quicksands on my behalf, so I don't have to do it while I'm stuck in the weird fog that makes everything look unreal.

So I guess I must be doing something right. No one has such energy to carry these stones and pile them over and over just for pretend. Right?

Right.

Yeah, my therapist really should be proud.

[cairafea]

little 3am procrastination doodles, good morning shino nation