Tag: angst

The Drowning Child

There once was a child born underwater. Her mother felt it safer and a better way to grow her. She lived her days watching her mother and all else walk over her. From where she stood neither way of living looked better. Her mother was sick and kept the extent of it from her, by the time she found out her worst nightmare was upon her. She knew there’d be people wanting to save her, but she wasn’t so sure if they really wanted to help her. The death of her mother made her pull herself further.  Under the deep blue filter the people looked smaller, were they just ghosts of what was offered?  She questioned if these realms were even for her. So many people arms outstretched above her, still, she just continued to swim down under. As she saw the helping ropes and good blessings she started to realize that she should have never even bothered. Every day is a horror that she cursed these poor people hoping to see the drowning child to touch and comfort. She never learned and didn’t want to, still, she felt bad for the people above her. She should try to live like they, she thought often. She was never able to get past horror. She’s still down under the water filling it with tears and salt hoping to choke her.

I, Breathe

Ask me if I am happy

I will answer

I never expected to be

 

For someone that looks so happy

There is no faith in humanity

No one is worthy of it

 

My favorite song in a murderous musical

It is basically how I feel about life most days

“We all deserve to die, even you Miss. Lovett, even I”

That song begins to play constantly in my head

I know that I’m going mad

It’s all I can think about

 

I start to question if bad things are really bad

If I am the only one that is drowning on malfeasance‎

Then comparison begins

 

I have not suffered

I have not tried hard enough

Why do I have the right to feel this way?

 

I probably don’t

Yet, here I am

Weak and unworthy

 

Still breathing . . .

Vines

Four windows and twenty tabs

Drowning in green quicksand

Not understanding how to map

Unsure if she really can

 

Writing and hating how it sounds

Compliments that aren’t profound

Makes you question the bow

Wondering if people feel different now

 

How disappointed they will be

Debt up to her ears

No one to hear

Her swinging from a vine

Swinging In The Dark

It’s unsettling

The night calms yet brings dreams

Nightmares

She never did change

Was it for the people who wrote in her yearbook?

Was it for herself?

She sits in the dark staring at walls

She doesn’t know how to do this

There are no red marks on her arms

A sure sign she’s getting better

Nightmares

She pushed friends away and died

They won’t miss her anyway

She made sure of it

She’s too curious to leave them alone

Internet addiction

Social Media worship

Nightmares

Even when home she wants to be there

Home

Where is it?

She likes the feel of night

Never scared of walking alone in it

Darkness is different

She always runs away from it

Swings are perfection

The only thing that will truly make her happy

Swinging in the dark