I'm trying to write,
but it's not coming out...
right.
I'm trying to deal,
but nothing seem...
real.
I'm trying all of these things,
yet all I seem to keep doing,
is dream.

It's that moment,
at 2:00 AM that I fear.
It's that precise moment,
when I haven't eaten for what feels like years.
I feel myself growing weary,
but I don't sleep.
Instead,
I drown.

I drown myself in the tears of my own sorrow.
I drown myself thinking,
"Was there anything else I could have done?"

After hours of this one person pity party,
I think,
"They were right all along."

I fear this moment the most,
not for myself,
but others.
I fear that one day,
this precise moment,
will eventually make my pain go away.

The shadows change their length,
the sky changes color,
while my days continue to blend
and I can't tell one from another.

Days pass and nights end,
while I seem stuck between the two,
there is a pattern to my waking hours
and the few minutes of borrowed sleep.

I keep making the same mistakes,
sometimes feel like waking up is one too,
or may be it is in thinking things will be different,
when the sounds are muted, and the feelings few.

Being in limbo makes you feeling light,
like a fluff of down carried in the breeze,
but I don't feel light, I feel heavy,
like an anchor rooted to the bottom of the sea.

I have questions, oh so many,
but it is not answers that I am truly after,
I want to be un-stuck and propelled forward,
right out of this one, into the next chapter.

I'm sitting, slouched over,
on the edge of the world.
It's like a dam, except there's no bottom.
Around me the water flows off of the edge.
And above me, a storm wall between me and the rest of the universe forms.

This is the wall of which I despise.
I am cut off,
without hope,
and without love.
I am cut off from a world which I also despise,
but I think I despise being alone more,
rather than being around people I hate.

Is that an awful thing to say?
I don't know.

I haven't written in a while
Not sure why
I've always felt the need to write everything down,
until now.
I'm unsure if I've gotten better,
or if I'm slowly getting worse.
All I know is that I feel weathered,
and lacking the words.
I think I'll try to write more,
maybe that'll help.
Maybe one day,
I'll be able to just be myself.

I've been lost in this ocean of people.
I've made friends,
but they don't know who I truly am.
I've put on a face to impress,
hoping that some day I'll be able to rest.
Still, I still wake up each morning,
hating this thing I've made myself to be,
hating this thing that people know me to be.

How do I change?
How do I say, "enough is enough"?
How do I challenge the world to see me for me,
and still be enough?
I'm not sure how,
but for the time being,
I'll just write everything down.

“Here's to the crazy ones. The misfits. The rebels. The troublemakers. The round pegs in the square holes. The ones who see things differently. They're not fond of rules. And they have no respect for the status quo. You can quote them, disagree with them, glorify or vilify them. About the only thing you can't do is ignore them. Because they change things. They push the human race forward. And while some may see them as the crazy ones, we see genius. Because the people who are crazy enough to think they can change the world, are the ones who do.”
― Rob Siltanen

As I sat on the riverside,
I thought to myself,
What does it mean to be alive?

As I sat on the bank of the shore,
I thought to myself,
Why do I wake up in the morn?

As I sat in the absence of light,
I thought to myself,
Why am I being ignored?

As a kid I would talk to my parents,
Now, as a teenager,
I don't.

Not because I don't want to,
Not because I don't need to,
Instead, because I don't think I can.

Instead, I write my feelings out on this website.
Instead, I talk to my friends.
Instead, I ignore the insight,
which has been given to me by god.

Maybe they aren't ignoring me and instead,
I am only ignoring myself.