Sleep, work, break to eat, work, home, eat, and sleep again
Same thing different day
When you were a kid you were the only one who didn’t want to grow up
You were the only one that seemed to understand the truth
Nothing gets better, you can buy things to mask, but don’t get addicted
You prayed
Not having to make choices
Nothing no longer being unfair
No longer fearing letting them all down
You prayed
You understood that there was probably a plan
A plan that you didn’t know
A plan you should follow, it was neither right or wrong
You prayed to no longer be apart of that plan
You prayed for eternal sleep
Yet, here you are twelve years later with nothing on your feet
Your life in a cardboard box
People giving you looks
Pity, shame, hatred and
You pray no one else will fall to this
Tag: rant
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 . . .