Wednesday, May 21, 2008
In writing.
I'm not so sure about the future anymore. With every little problem going on in the world to every little problem going on in my head, it all adds up to one big problem I can't escape. What happened to me? What happened to us? This might just be the beginning of the end, for me at least. Everyday is like a bullet in the head and another knife at the throat of hope. See? This is what I mean. Scattered thoughts for a cluster fuck of a life that is mine. I wish things were easy. I wish I could explain with out saying too much or too little. Or I wish I can just be happy with the way things are in life. But I was never one to take things the easy way. Insecurities are building up in me. I don't want them to share the moments we have. I don't want to share the same thoughts as them. I know I'm not in love and I'm afraid it will always be a one way road. And at the risk of sounding trite, it's not you it's me. I'm incapable of ever loving someone. You deserve someone who can do the same to you as you do to me. I'm incomplete, eternally.
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
Not now, not ever.
What's left when no matter what anyone says it doesn't change your mind about your self? I'm afraid I'll never know how to truly be happy with my self or my situation in life.
No, I can't explain this to you because it's different for everyone but I feel like I'm drowning face down in the bathtub. Too weak to pick my head up. This is the voice of nothing. Nothing left to gain. And I'm standing here screaming my lungs out just to ease the pain. The more I fight, the more I fail. Exhaustion. Letting go. But I have learned that healing is something that happens, not something that you do. Pick a scar and tell a story. I'll tell you one of my own about addiction and self-loathing and a lack of self-control and the cuts I couldn't leave alone. So I pick my flesh straight down to the bone. A compulsion. A failed attempt to regain control. Some things are out of our hands. Dream scapes in orange remind me that the cure for pain, is to take the pain. So in my head I just keep repeating, "This too shall pass, This too shall pass, This too shall pass, This too shall pass." Life. Love. Remorse. Regret. Lost hope. This too shall pass. As this life began, so shall it end.
No, I can't explain this to you because it's different for everyone but I feel like I'm drowning face down in the bathtub. Too weak to pick my head up. This is the voice of nothing. Nothing left to gain. And I'm standing here screaming my lungs out just to ease the pain. The more I fight, the more I fail. Exhaustion. Letting go. But I have learned that healing is something that happens, not something that you do. Pick a scar and tell a story. I'll tell you one of my own about addiction and self-loathing and a lack of self-control and the cuts I couldn't leave alone. So I pick my flesh straight down to the bone. A compulsion. A failed attempt to regain control. Some things are out of our hands. Dream scapes in orange remind me that the cure for pain, is to take the pain. So in my head I just keep repeating, "This too shall pass, This too shall pass, This too shall pass, This too shall pass." Life. Love. Remorse. Regret. Lost hope. This too shall pass. As this life began, so shall it end.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)