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Breeze-Mist Jul 2016
I came to a fork
In the one road I knew
A fork unlike others
I had already been through

On each pathway
Stood a strange being
I blinked, rubbing my eyes
Unsure of what I was seeing

I then heard a voice,
Like it came from within,
"How do you know
What is pure and what is sin?

How do you choose?
Are you swayed by the season?
Or are you guided by them,
By belif and by reason?"

Looking ahead of me
Through my internal mayhem
I saw my two guides
Who once worked in tandem

And I began to wonder:
"By whose law do I abide?"
As I thought, so continued
That voice spoke from inside

"In one road stands reason,
And the other, belif
And in this choice
One is your aide, the other a theif."

"So who do I choose?"
I shouted to implore
But that little voice
Left me alone as before

I looked to faith, standing right
Warm and light up ahead
She offered many answers
But claimed knowledge was too much for my head

I stared at reason, standing left
Crisp, clear, and easy to follow
But he offered no definates
Only peices to borrow

So there I stood
Trying to make my thoughts clear
Two full years later
And I still standing here
Just me trying to understand life/having an existential crisis.
Blue Jun 2017
I always believed,
That if you believed,
Anything could happen.
So I always told myself,
"She'll get better."
And I began to believe.

But then you go worse,
And my belif turned to doubt,
And my doubts into realization,
"She'll never sober up."

Popping pills,
Drinking ***** by the bottle,
Throwing me into walls,
Your boyfriends doing unapeakable things.

You wasted away,
As I pushed you out of my life.
I waited and waited for things to get better,
Until that awful fight.

Plates smashing,
And Bottles thrown,
Words spoken,
Slamming doors.

And then the coroner,
Two days later.
I knew,
Before the words were out of his mouth.

You never got better.
You gave up, not even staying the same.
And here I am,
Left to take the blame.
Breeze-Mist Aug 2016
I think I need to find
More reasons to stay
I'm dangerously close
To running away

I constantly worry about
My reason to live
Because I never know
Which is the last breath I'll give

I keep comming back
To my existentalism
I wonder if I can be happy
With any belif system

Sometimes I wonder
If I'm obsessive
If my frequent musings
Cross the line into excessive

Sometimes I wonder
Going day to day
If I'll ever even
Get to have a say

Sometimes when I'm awake
In the middle of the night
I wonder if I'm normal
And, failing that, all right

— The End —