If the meds aren’t enough,
then what shall fulfill your drive
to stay alive?

Haven’t you had enough already,
to have your insides ruptured?

Is this how you end things,
without leaving any
trace of ******?

I’m feeling overwhelmed, unsatisfied, why?
I’m happy, in love, why?
I hate my job, why?
I love my career, why?
I read, I write, why?
I smash things, I cry, why?
I’m so unsure, why?
I’m so sure, why?
Pain, so painful, why?
Happiness, so happy, why?
I’m angry, frustrated, it’s all frustrating, why?
Emotionally unstable, physically bound, mentally free and spiritually alive, I’m living and I don’t care why.

sometimes i ponder the thought that if i were to take my own life the sun would sure as hell still rise the next day

that if one day you woke up and i was no longer here
my existence would eventually become something you’d only acknowledge once a year

it hurts to force myself out of bed and stare at this hollowfied carcass of a body that i'm forced to roam

my soul is no longer here
it was ripped from the most sacred parts of me years ago

i don't think im meant to stay here for much longer
though i truly tried to find something to cling to
being forced to live in such agony is wrong

the whole point of my existence here on this plane is what follows after im long gone

I've been running so fast, and I need to slow down
Before my whole word comes crashing down!

I've already hit the ground, but I got back up
And I'm ready to go another round!

Found out today it's a miracle I'm here
Now everthing that was blurry, seems so clear!

I couldn't have asked for better family and friends,
And I can't believe I wanted to call it the END!

4/26/10

Everything is temporary
My mansion is temporary
The monsters in my mansion
they might live forever
Not in my mansion but they’ll live in another

I am always wary
For the monster are scary
Isn’t that why we call them monsters?
I have to be clever

They may never get the best of me
I will fight until I die
Whatever, whenever, wherever
They cannot defeat me until I’m dead
I’m not about to let them have that

What a gift to be half crazy.
High functioning,
they like to say.
How flattering to be told
I hide it well.

“It seems you are quite bright.”
Why thank you doctor dear.
I’ll revel in your
in your homage
while I drink.

How ‘bout this,
write me a list,
sane people of the world.
A definition
of who exactly
deserves your help.

Internal wounds,
please breach the surface.
Don’t make me dig for you.
I’ll never find
the proof I need
to show I’m worthy.

Have you ever self-destructed?
Said **** it to the world.
Left logic
locked away
until tomorrow.

Have you ever given up?
Thrown a tantrum
about your life.
Left gratitude
to grovel
at the door.

Have you ever realized later,
how blinding self-hate is?
How easily it tricks you
into believing,

you’re not worth
the love you’re given,
you have no love to give.
No wonder
you stay in bed
to ease the pain.

But trust me
I’ve laid in darkness,
wallowing in despair,
tried to warm,
my freezing heart
with heaps of blankets.

But I’ve learned
time and again,
when I emerge
from shifting shadows,
life is waiting
ever patient
as I learn,

how to see myself through eyes
with compassion
for healing wounds,
trusting
my beating heart
says I’m enough.

First
my neckbones decayed
from lack of use
but I didn’t mind
if my head could lay
blissfully in your lap
forever

Then
you melted away
leaving my mind
to rot in mud
squishy
like the texture
of dependence

Now
I will grow new bones
in a garden long neglected
teeming with life
just waiting for light
once buried
out of fear
I might **** it

Overtime
I will bloom
with a new sense of self
aware
of my prolific potential
with head held high
by homegrown bones
I will never let die again

Something inside
wears a devilish smirk,
mocking my healthy living.

It’s seen this cycle
many times before,
but life’s not that forgiving.

Smiling because
it knows my truth
whispering in my ear,

your pleasure lies
in pain my friend,
this act is insincere.

Get up early,
eat an apple,
run a mile or two.

Unless you wipe
me off your heart
self-worth will not accrue.

You don’t believe,
not yet I know,
from here it’s plain to see.

Because I am doubt,
the thing that shouts,
you’re destined for misery.