It just feels like no matter how much ground I gain or far I run, it’s still always there, right at my back, this extra gravity. And I know I’m supposed to be okay with that and accept it, because this...thing... is just a passenger in my life now, and it's not going anywhere. But **** if doesn’t still knock me down.

And every time I find a home without it, it seems to eventually find its back to remind me just how tired I am.

At best it is white noise, always chattering in the background. At worse...well you know it goes; it deafens and it cripples.

I think we all just want to know, "how far do I have to run, how long do I have fight...to be normal again?"

Somehow, knowing that question doesn't have an answer doesn't make it go away.

I have no desire to eat,
When the dollar keeps
getting higher,
Another night of fighting sleep,
Father, my eyes are so tired,
So much time I've wasted,
I haven't done enough,
enough to make my life count.

Dear Jesus, I can feel your pain,
Does this ink bleed in vain,
I don't understand...
why I can't let go,
if it's all in your hands,
I'm not complaining,
Yet I can't explain it.

Before I could careless,
if tomorrow never came,
Now it's different,
I worry if I close my eyes,
that they won't open to see another
blue sky,
Oh Jesus, does it even matter at all,
since you already know who will & who won't fall.
Will my soul still breathe,
if my body, it should leave.

I can't breathe in,
My thoughts are spinning,
I need a bite to eat,
I need some sleep,
But I'm afraid I'll miss a chance
to fix what I broke in the past.

Father, my eyes are too tired,
too weak to weep,
I won't risk losing a chance,
by closing these eyes tonight,
Don't let this ink bleed in vain,
show me how to do it right,
and I will this time.

I don't know how to let go
of things I don't own, of thing's
I didn't know,
I don't know how to let go
of what thing's that I have,
I don't know how to let go
of the thing's I know.
I know You are in control,
Oh God, I'm in debt,
Make me pay what I owe
before from my body,
it's time for my soul to go.

longing for summer;
literally,metaphorically

Everytime i feel the urge to commit suicide ,
I try to feel  how a dead person is to us when he/she comits suicide.

When someone comits suicide
That person become a dead body to us within hours, just a cold insensible body and faded memory in days .
Time fly's like wind in a hurricane .

Try to think this from the point of that person who want to commit suicide .
How lazy and slow his days are ... Passing every hour for him is like slicing own arm that is pinned beneath an 800 pounds boulder !!
No numbing medicine .  unimaginable pain

Not everyone is "Aron Ralston"  
But everyone should posses his courage.
You can't live in your mind and expect you'll be saved .
Reality requires emotional resilience .
And pain demands to be felt .
You can endure all things by grace. !!!

My skin crawls when people notice my existence

This body that i had once loved was turned against me

The power my body once held as a temple was ruined meeting you

I used to seep yellow as my aura now it seeps red for the man who killed my purity

I enjoyed hugs but now I refuse a simple handshake

Was it that night worth it, i ask myself as i relive that night

The way you clawed at my skin and clothes

The blood that rushed to my cheeks had not been from excitement

My cheeks flushed red my eyes filled with tears coughing up blood

I shiver remembering the revolting things you had done

That night my body had said goodbye purity hello hell.

I stand in a dessert without a single dune
- just flat sand as far as the eye can see,
And high above me: an unreachable Moon,
silently shining its silver on me.

Too distant for me to hear,
- but I know it sings
A soft lullaby about fear,
And sorrow, and broken wings.

So I keep walking, further still,
Through this nothingness of sand,
An emptiness I cannot fill,
I wish for a helping hand.

But there is none, and anyway
A helping hand I couldn't use:
I alone must walk this way,
Stand and win, or fall and lose.

A whisper from above and far
Tells me I'll be home soon;
I need no guiding star -
I have a guiding Moon.

I glimpse upon crimson ribbons.
Streaming gloriously, in horrid scenes.
Their beauty costs a price of pain.
A feeling bathed, in bitter sweet.

Wherefore does your  hearth give?
Nurture from fiery ****.
To kindle my faltering flame,
and bolster me to my feet.

Ode to you my crimson ribbons.
My memoir symphony,
throws fists on razor edge
and tunes the song my nerves dare not sing.

Set loose with heavy hand.
Furry far unseen.
Again I see the crimson ribbons!
Not owned... by me.