I wish there was a word beyond “sad”
Because three letters cannot capture
The way my heart breaks and bends every time you enter my mind

when shall i learn that a line must be drawn
for the sake of my sanity
how can i accept my own demise due to my service of others?
i must wash my hands clean of the guilt i possess
for i harm no one as greatly as myself

i swim in oceans of my misery and drown in pools of my sorrow
terror fills my lungs and breaks away at the tissue in them

¨careful!¨ i scream
i cannot allow myself to fall victim to my own mind
the racing and pumping of my thoughts breaking down the barriers i have built
there is nothing left to protect my self-esteem
no armed guards to stop the negativity in its tracks
no brick wall to block the sadness from reaching me

dangerous. is the only world i can use to describe my thoughts
a battlefield of mines bursting with anger
sticks of dynamite, disguised as flowers to lure and destroy
the question is, who are they meant to hurt?

are they meant to agitate me further to turn my back on myself?
refusing the possibility that happiness can be found?
or are they meant to bring pain to others?
to keep me in control of the opinions and decisions of my peers?
does she aim to help or control?

perhaps, my mind is losing track of what i was thinking
allowing me room to doubt myself
is my mind trying to convince me that i am the parasite in the lives of others,
feeding off of their souls
i believe she is right
to tell me that i do things in order to gain
she tells me, that i do not wish to help, only to hurt

i understand now that i am up against myself
left up to my own devices
no one is under obligation to assist me in battling my demons
i will struggle and fight, until my last breath
to let my own mind defeat me, is to allow defeat inside of my own fortress

i will never be unarmed again

I miss you like the wind does the leaves
But when spring comes, once again they will meet

I have a dilemma in heart and mind
My brain to me is so unkind
Do I suppress my evil thoughts
With a measly prescription, store bought?
I’m staying strong for him
But some days depression wins
And my anger bubbles up
So instead I wash it down with a cup
Of water and a little nauseating pill
It’s blue and powerful, it often makes me ill
I worry to start again
Because I could barely stop back then
It’s not worth the toll
So I flush them down the toilet bowl

There are days I could leave this behind
Pack up and go with clear conscience and mind
Yet as time ticks away I still stay

Do you ever wonder
if the painter
tires of his colors?