Wasting space, I'm sick to my stomach. The greater the demand, the lesser my will. Try to tell me what to feel -I've already felt it. The struggle within has made me give in and there is NO answers. I drag myself up - for what? I'm not sure of. I hear the screeching voices wanting things. I attempt to teach the things I've never learned. I want to cry but there is no time. Forcing a smile, I give what I don't have and another day goes by. Helplessness feeding self-hatred. Dying slowly and hoping for salvation. Wanting to scream but no sound will escape me. My youth curdling like sour cream and time no longer being be a friend of mine. Somewhere in the depths of my soul there is a hope, of what - I don't know. I cling to it to face the day as my fingers feel it slip away.
Mar 2, 2014
Mar 2, 2014 at 6:08 PM UTC
Wasting space, I'm sick to my stomach. The greater the demand, the lesser my will. Try to tell me what to feel -I've already felt it. The struggle within has made me give in and there is NO answers. I drag myself up - for what? I'm not sure of. I hear the screeching voices wanting things. I attempt to teach the things I've never learned. I want to cry but there is no time. Forcing a smile, I give what I don't have and another day goes by. Helplessness feeding self-hatred. Dying slowly and hoping for salvation. Wanting to scream but no sound will escape me. My youth curdling like sour cream and time no longer being be a friend of mine. Somewhere in the depths of my soul there is a hope, of what - I don't know. I cling to it to face the day as my fingers feel it slip away.
Some of my darker thoughts... Written 06/17/08
