Old and overweight.
Lonely and scared.
A story that's been told a million times.

Several million times,
yet it's echoing pain screams it's agony.

Soiled by judgment.
Damaged by opinion.
Shamed by acceptance of outlook.
Wishing for the strength to die.

Miserable and hate full
That's what you've turned into.
You look at others and see only your losses.
Open your eyes fool!!!
Every day, you **** happiness in others to fuel your own feud.
You oppress those around you to feed your self inflicted misery.
I wish I could tell you to go to hell.
No point..you're already there.

Anger and misery have deserted me
I'm hanging in limbo again.
I hate this feeling of not feeling.
I search for an emotion, but all elude me.
I especially miss self-righteousness and self-pity too.
Two of my favourite pals.
I seem to always need something to moan about.
I even moan about not having anything to moan about.

Hang on.....is this self disgust?
Aha! I can still feel.
Oh, here comes relief and self deprecation.......
Yes,yes...my yearning for acceptance has arrived too.
Coupled with dissatisfaction, anger is rising too.
Misery is chasing away delicious numbness
****! But I'm a fool!

So many sides to me, so much to see.
I'm strong, I'm weak, I'm shy, I'm brash.
A different me for every day.
I know how to save a life, while I desperately want to take my own.
I juggle my options daily
So far I've not found Peace....

She's an elusive mistress who's shadow resides in a bottle.

He calls to me daily and politely I answer.
Oblivion follows, the many 'mes' sleep.

Waking (another curse) I have to face my many sides, who will it be today?
Who's shaking hand will answer Oblivion's call tonight?

Loneliness is my partner.
It walks by my side.
It surrounds me selfishly, keeping me prisoner.

I must break free, I must find a way.

Loneliness and pride walk hand in hand.
Blinding me to all the joys I may claim.

I'll save myself.
I don't know how, but I have no choice.
These feet are two, they'll never be more.
But stand I must and in me I trust.

My mother loves me, I know it well.
She never says it, she doesn't know how, she'll never hug me, she'll never kiss me.
I've always been too fat, I've always been too foolish.

But when my seizure's over and I'm lying helpless on the floor, my head's in her lap and her tears bathe my face.
As I come back to myself, all I want is her comfort.
As I come back to myself her comfort disappears and her strength returns.

My mother loves me, I know it well.
She always shows it, the only way she knows how.

I'm right here and nobody sees me.
They talk with me, laugh with me, fight with me, but they don't see me.

It's not all their fault,
I'm hiding again.
I care too much,
I'm too intimidated.

Do I do this to others?
Do they care too much what I think?
Do I intimidate them?

I know I'm guilty, we all are.
Why does it matter so much?
Why can't we let ourselves be free?

We're such fools, we keep hiding, and
wave goodbye as life passes by.