I'm done following your rules
I've dealt with your blows
And I have finally found the end to this endless tunnel
I'm no longer your puppet
I will not sit and weep, hoping for a better future
I'm done being broken my love
Did it help you sleep at night knowing I was in pain?
Did you enjoy witnessing my scabbed up arms?
Did you enjoy seeing me in the endless darkness?
Did you think I would stay there forever?
Wrong my love, I am more than your petty blows
Now its my turn to deal the blows
And you're going to pray to that being you vowed to never believe in
That I died that day
The day you thought you broke me.
So my love
Be ready
For I will never hurt you
The way you have hurt me.
Instead I will fly and soar
Like a bird out of its never ending captivity

sometimes it becomes too much
you get swallowed up whole and no, its not depression
just plain ol too much
the only question you ask is will it be okay?
and in truth,
that's something only you can answer
all I know is that tomorrow is a new day, and with tomorrow comes a new beginning
you're just a human being
and you don't have to take it all in one go
take it on
but in pieces
let people in and let them help
because they want you to be okay
and you will be
eventually
it may not be today, in an hour, or tomorrow
it may be in a year, but just know that if you take it on with the people around you
and don't give up,
**you will be okay

Dear mother,
I love you,
but I don't,
don't know what to do.

I've not felt right,
for so long,
I don't know what's left,
I feel so wrong.

I've walked a lonely road,
leading away from society,
been drinking too much,
and long for sobriety.

It's why I look so sad,
even though I say I'm okay,
It's why I have so much fun,
but come home with bloodied fists
at the end of each day.

I can put on that smile,
wear it with bright eyes,
but as soon as I'm alone,
the light dies.

I'm not sure what to do now,
so I write to you mother,
I know you have been through this,
we are a lot alike each other.

I hope you understand,
why I've hid this from you,
because I don't want to worry about me,
or what I might do.

I don't like pills,
or men in white,
so I've made my own therapy,
and I've learned to write.

I am painting this dark picture,
so you know how bad I can feel,
but I end on hope,
that maybe I can heal.

It certainly ain't a cure,
I don't think there is one,
but there is easement,
and I'm certainly not done.

So for now I write this letter,
and head off to bed.

Yours Lovingly,

ED

What is desperation?
Is it the act of acting on impulse?
Or is it more?
Is it when you seek something so much?
So much that you lose yourself?
Is it that hollow feeling of not being fulfilled?
Is desperation what I am?
Am I desperate?
Do I seek so much that there's nothing left to seek?
Do I take and take without giving?
Am I so very desperate?

Once again
I receive my results
And what do I see
The same ol same ol
Nothing new
Nothing surprising
It's a big fat F
And it's all I am
I'm a failure
And I'm never getting anything better
So why should I try
If all I get is another
Big fat F

A good day turns bitter
As I look to you for guidance
Only to see a dark and dingy version
Of my once knight in shing armor