Breaking News
  • August 31Homecoming is October 7!
  • August 31The first one-hour delay is next Wednesday, 9/6
The Student Voice of Forest Hills Central

The Central Trend

The Student Voice of Forest Hills Central

The Central Trend

The Student Voice of Forest Hills Central

The Central Trend

My writing garden – cyclamen

Life lately; early mornings with picturesque skies and coffee and leaves.

I’m afraid it’ll be eternal; this feeling.

It lingers in my bloodstream, whispers in my ear, and settles within my bones.

And I believe it. New levels of persuasion are reached through its brevity.

I’m not good enough.

I’m not good enough.

This is no epiphany; I’ve had similar statements suffocating me before. I listen to the wind’s voices telling me my worth. I hear the rustle of the trees, reminding me I’m a burden.

But something’s different this time. It doesn’t feel like an insecurity; it just feels like a fact. A fact that’s undeniable and simultaneously inevitable. Like I was destined to fall short. Like fate has decided I’m only alive so I can bask in my flaws and then perish. 

“Practice makes perfect” and “never give up” are inscribed so deeply in my brain that I never thought I could question their validity. 

I make excuses and I find reasons and I search and search for clarity until my vision is blurred and my morals are askew. 

Clarity only comes with closure, and I won’t be getting closure anytime soon. I don’t know closure very well; I leave wounds open so that I can draw blood whenever I want. Re-analyzing from recurrent angles just to make sure I have the same conclusion. Yet I beg for a discrepancy, I yearn for a disparity, I long for a dissimilarity. Anything that gives me a veracious reason to reminisce.

I’ll be stuck in the past forever. The present is simply the time I use to think about the past, and the future is just the past that hasn’t happened yet. I’ve forgotten how to be excited about things. I don’t need to wait for anything. I’ve fought with time repeatedly; I know how fast she flies.

Time and my insecurities; two eternal entities fighting over which can make my life worse. They make each other worse too. With every passing second, I substantiate my deepest fears further. Every new fear is evidence of change. Like cyclamen, blooming year after year, it’s a cycle, resurging every so often. This flower and I; we’re stuck in the loop of infinity. 

I wish I had a happy ending, but cycles never end, so I should be grateful that this can end. I don’t feel like enough, I feel doomed, I feel stuck, I feel trapped. They’re just statements ringing through my head, repeating and repeating and repeating until I eventually find a way to make it stop.

Leave a Comment
About the Contributor
Ella Peirce, Copy Editor
Ella is a sophomore who is delighted to be returning to The Central Trend for a second year. Ella has been a competitive figure skater for as long as she can remember, and she also plays volleyball. Her other interests include hanging out with her friends, listening to music, rewatching her favorite sitcoms, reorganizing her Pinterest boards, and spending time with her pet bunny. She is endlessly excited for this year on staff and cannot wait to continue growing her love for writing. Favorite musical artist: Taylor Swift Favorite sitcom: Community Go-to Starbucks order: A venti Strawberry Acai Lemonade Refresher with no strawberry inclusions

Comments (0)

All The Central Trend Picks Reader Picks Sort: Newest

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *