The Urge To Erase Everything And Go Away

I have this overwhelming urge to erase everything, delete every picture, delete every number, cut every tie, and go away to someplace else where I am alone and new. I do not know if it is the itch to get out of my comfort zone or the yearning to leave my uncomfortable life. People say you need to get out of your comfort zone. But what if you never had one? And you have been working really hard to create one for yourself. Then, why leave? Why not stay there? Anyway, about this urge: I don't know what to do with it. I often wonder why I think the way I do. Is it because I have not much space around me between this half bed and a small table? Am I not able to grow? Am I not scared enough? Or am I just running away because I am paranoid? My inner self is screaming at me to run away from everyone and everything. Now, let me assure you. While I am thinking like this, I have zero intentions of hurting my near and dear ones. In fact, I often think I should go away from them for their betterment. I look at my father, and I feel like I am a burden. I sit with my mother, and I feel like she will finally be at peace when I leave the house forever. I talk to my sister, and I feel like she is just unwillingly fulfilling her duty as my elder sister to look after me. I go out with my friends, and I feel like I am constantly holding them back from having fun and from achieving more. I simply do not feel at ease. And when I come back to my spot, there is nothing but an empty me. A phone with no texts waiting to be answered. A laptop that has no mail waiting to be read There is no list of books to be read. There are no movies downloaded to watch. Nothing. I search for something, just something—maybe a hand to reach out to. But, nothing. The hollowness is jarring. I want to escape this vacuum. But how? How do you escape nothing? I try adding things, but they all dissolve. All dissolve into my banality. Is it an urge to run away from being a burden on others or on my own self?

- Oizys.

An Orange - A Poem

Some entertain, but I follow your clay-like path.
Here I am, a warm brain loitering in the university of elixir.

Conversations of precisions, the recitation
of curtains, we
call an aquatic necklace.
Cinnamon and pure father,
which is a silent map of directions
three hundred, or too many to count, rejoiced
on a bed or in the warm land
directions of the leg, a calculation in your tails.
Halfway.
For river was rabid and morally positive.

- Oizys

{I love writing. I have been through so many phases in my life, but one thing that has remained constant is my love for writing. Well, another could be my dream to become a writer. No matter how mediocre, cringy, or banal my words can be, it has never made me give up. I would read more and try to write better. Some days, I fantasised about writing stories and novels. Some days, I would dream of publishing my poetry in magazines here and there and then compiling them into one. Some days, I would dream of becoming an unknown diarist whose diaries get published posthumusly. But words have been constant. It is true that most of these dreams are nowhere near becoming true, but it is not a crime to dream.}