It’s the place underneath the obvious.
I wanna go deep.
Time to overcome this unease.
I wanna be still.
To excise the superficial, project the truth.
I wanna be real.
To let the music carry me on its wings.
I wanna feel free.
Reveal the tenderness and compassion buried in my pain.
I wanna be me…
I wanna to be happy.
Silent deception
Confident chicanery
You smiling bastard
Hard hit to the heart
Foreign reality now
Weight of lies broke me
Forever altered
Gazillion hurt pieces
Difficult to breathe
Difficult to live
Struggling to survive in pain
Dark for a long time
Life
took a
toll today,
pushing me hard.
Intense emotions wore me down again.
In
pain and
in darkness,
needing numbness
or release. Battling for air, or life?
In the clutches of this mental sinkhole, forced effort my only ally.
My day is silent, slow tears and exhaustion.
The bed, my refuge.
This world feels so far removed from inside my womb of despair.
Dark, alone and unwell.
I need to stop sinking.
Or eventually, I will float.
The light slowly leaving.
Dolor creeping into this blank space in my head.
Swallowed up in this ever-deepening gray haze minimizing my liveliness.
Pitch-blackness, my old friend, immobilizing me again.
No energy, desire, motivation or strength.
This thick sadness creates a loneliness where hope can’t creep in.
Courage oozes away, one drop after another of life leaking to somewhere it can’t return from.
Goals left to die in the waves of this depression.
Silent tears pitching between wet, heavy sobs.
An aching all-encompassing deep pain leaving invisible scars.
Severe despondency and dejection, I doubt life can go on.
It’s a reality in my head not worth living.
Escape from that which continually pulls me down feels impossible, this devastating extreme of the opposite of happy.
It feels like I’m stolen from me.
I feel over.
Nothing is good, everything is bad.
I’ve been on #9.
It was amazing. For awhile.
Was too young to know it might end badly.
Fooled by the soft and comfortable.
Got pushed off. Hard.
Too stupid on how to deal.
Fuck Cloud 9.
The landing was excruciating.
A most productive exclamation of feelings.
For the delivery of, but also being a witness to.
I was reminded how emotional outbursts can be an easing of my burden.
After existence becomes too much, sometimes only rage and tears
can get me back to center.
