Jan 2017
Words shouted out, a crying call echoing Into vast nothingness.
Everyone hears but no one listens.
This cry of negativity goes unnoticed and is blown over because it doesn't matter.
I have screamed until my vocal chords will no longer make sound.
Why can't I be happy?
I am continually saddened by the fact that every time I go to write another poem tears fall on the page and turn to ink.
The poems of my pain and my depression write themselves.
But I am frustrated by the fact that my poems never are happy.
My life is a continual tragedy of failures.
I am once again at someone else's mercy as I am a marionette, repeatedly handed off between dictators as they aggressively pull my strings.
I am old, I am battered, and I am once again thrown Into the closet at the end of the day with words of disgust and disapproval as my company.
I am in a world of black for not being able to trust anyone has left me alone and depressed.
Bottled up emotions spill out in these words, this is the true ink of suffering.
Yet the ink is invisible to others for they have not seen what I have seen, nor felt what I have felt.
I no longer rest when I sleep.
I shut my eyes only to find myself awake in another reality where I am hunted down and tortured vigorously.
I scream silent screams of pain as I wake up in a cold sweat at the beginning of the bewitching hour.
3 am comes too soon every morning as Satan sits outside waiting to crawl into my head and take control of my body.
I have been strong but days of recent leave me feeling weak and his strength may one day soon take over mine as I succumb to his darkness.
Why?
I have gone through hell already.
I have felt so much pain and lived through so much trauma.
I forgave those who hurt me.
I loved those who needed to be loved.
I have done everything I can to be the best me.
Why is it still there?
Why am I still depressed?
Why do I still want death more than anything?
Why do I still feel darkness even though I am trying to be the light?
These are words I ask myself everyday.
Life continually leaves me hovering a few inches above rock bottom.
The scars will heal, the blood will clot, but the memories last forever.
I am haunted by a past I never asked for and I just want to get away.
Allow me one peaceful sleep.
Allow my wounds to heal.
Allow my mind to be free and open.
I just want to be happy so please by all means,
Allow me to be.
Everyone hears but no one listens.
This cry of negativity goes unnoticed and is blown over because it doesn't matter.
I have screamed until my vocal chords will no longer make sound.
Why can't I be happy?
I am continually saddened by the fact that every time I go to write another poem tears fall on the page and turn to ink.
The poems of my pain and my depression write themselves.
But I am frustrated by the fact that my poems never are happy.
My life is a continual tragedy of failures.
I am once again at someone else's mercy as I am a marionette, repeatedly handed off between dictators as they aggressively pull my strings.
I am old, I am battered, and I am once again thrown Into the closet at the end of the day with words of disgust and disapproval as my company.
I am in a world of black for not being able to trust anyone has left me alone and depressed.
Bottled up emotions spill out in these words, this is the true ink of suffering.
Yet the ink is invisible to others for they have not seen what I have seen, nor felt what I have felt.
I no longer rest when I sleep.
I shut my eyes only to find myself awake in another reality where I am hunted down and tortured vigorously.
I scream silent screams of pain as I wake up in a cold sweat at the beginning of the bewitching hour.
3 am comes too soon every morning as Satan sits outside waiting to crawl into my head and take control of my body.
I have been strong but days of recent leave me feeling weak and his strength may one day soon take over mine as I succumb to his darkness.
Why?
I have gone through hell already.
I have felt so much pain and lived through so much trauma.
I forgave those who hurt me.
I loved those who needed to be loved.
I have done everything I can to be the best me.
Why is it still there?
Why am I still depressed?
Why do I still want death more than anything?
Why do I still feel darkness even though I am trying to be the light?
These are words I ask myself everyday.
Life continually leaves me hovering a few inches above rock bottom.
The scars will heal, the blood will clot, but the memories last forever.
I am haunted by a past I never asked for and I just want to get away.
Allow me one peaceful sleep.
Allow my wounds to heal.
Allow my mind to be free and open.
I just want to be happy so please by all means,
Allow me to be.
