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5am:
in the shower
a little too cold and
a little too sober
somewhere between
"I don't care" and
"still thinking of you"
I cannot begin to explain the horror that is my life
No self-harm here since pain cuts deep enough without a knife
They won't let me paint my nightmares on the four white walls confining me
You know they lock you up when you say things like 'I just want to be pretty'
Three square meals a day is thought to be a round diet
But as a kid the shapes didn't fit so I had to keep it quiet
Quick while nobody's looking throw it to the dogs
Wrap some in your napkin and hope to God no one saw
They say it's something mental nothing physical at all
But go a day in my shoes and you'd see apart we fall
I try to reach out for a paintbrush to color in my dreams
Hands tangled up in measuring tape and I'm bursting at the seams
there's something fundamental about existing
that shudders me.
and even in the moments
that I'm happy
I know I haven't escaped it.
it hovers persistently
in the background
and I can't ignore it forever.

misery is eternally pervasive.
what is there to be done of that
aside from suicide?

"don't be sad ryan, there are people dying in africa."
"you're right. that does make me feel better."

there are people suffering more than me.
what a load off my mind.
I can rest easy knowing that the suffering
that suffocates my every conscious thought
is just a mere droplet in the ocean of
unhappiness.

what a load off my mind.
teenagers are like a contradiction

they hate being criticized, but yet they're so quick to judge everyone else
they preach about doing the right thing, yet always choose to do the wrong

I guess what I'm trying to say is; teenagers ****
when life was simple
and everything seamed new
but in time
people tell you all is not true
and as a kid
I stood and cry'ed, at this
**** you are gay
but I still love you
but not in your way
so rock and roll.
As i get old
the mirror speaks for itself
shows me things i do not wish to see
but in my mind that person is not me
for in my soul i am young as i wish to be
just have to find a way
so others let me be.
People never stay the same
you meet a girl you fall in love
then from that day
she has to change you?
to die or not to die
that is the question?
in the fine days that i call my own
i find i have been once
all be it all alone
in the light would it change
or would i make the same misstake again
i could have been an artist
could have been serving beer
but i think
this day i would be me.
Lots of you liked this but that still leaves me wondering why!
but thank you one and all,
with regards Paul
The purging of the emotions or relieving of emotional tensions,
especially through certain kinds of art,
such as tragedy or music.
My new favorite word, this is not a poem, this is a definition I really enjoy.
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