forsaken
all my life try to live within the boundaries of a moral code
when I'm not sure who defined wrong and right
who wrote on my soul the "thou shalt nots"
in indelible ink with a viciously sharpened quill
tatooed into the essence of my identity
a masochistic sense of self-loathing
that demands I never do what my heart desires to.
to never run away, to never fly
showers aren't for singing, they're the only place I cry
and I hate my life
how is that possible...when there are so many that I love
but they never see me
no one ever knows
nor do they care to
I am a victim, pretending not to be
and they are so easily persuaded to believe me
it's not a lie, I wear myself on my sleeve
I simply never see that it makes me worth anything
because I'm dead inside
and I'm ready to die
I can't find anything to hope for
or believe in
there is no God to comfort me
there are no arms to hold me
there is no safe place to lay my head at night
when my bed is a battle zone
this isn't poetry
it's me....bleeding anguish because it hurts too much to hold it anymore
I'm scared that I'm as worthless
and unloveable
and ugly
as he says I am
what if it's true
and I will never, ever know what it's like
to be real
or really loved
does anyone else understand, anyone
how horrible it is to be too strong
for suicide
is there anyone on this God-forsaken planet
that can simply understand me
or am I just looping futile circles
in the dark landscape of my looming insanity
always alone
I totally understand this poem, that it's less of a poem and more of a cry into thin air. You're a mother so you can't choose suicide. You still believe in God just feel like he hasn't been around. Showers are a place to cry.
I can't even begin to describe how close this one hits to home, it is like you stole the words from the shadows of my mind, I can not just relate to this write as you are looking for someone to, I have lived and bleed thse emotions for more years than I can remember. Funny when you think about it, how we live in a planet of 6 plus billions souls, how can we feel so alone, what is wrong with us??? To be honest I still haven't found the answer. I have lived a life of inner pain and torment, I have been so lost in the abyss of the night that I didn't know which way was up or down, I have been there and back, more than once. Now I am where I always hoped to be, where I prayed to be. I am happily married to a beautiful wife, have three beautifl children, family and friends that love me, a great job, I have the picture perfect life as I always hoped it would be. Yet deep down in the shadows of my mind, in the recesses of the darkness a small part of myself still feels alone, I can't explain it, I can't rationalize it, I can't even describe it. It is just a small void that never seems to quite be filled, what is wronf with you??? nothing at all!!! and the one thing I have learned through all the trials and tribulations of life is that in truth we are not alone, we only feel that way. Poetry is the window to the soul for those who are blind enough to truely see, I am as blind as a bat in the darkness of the night. I have found in my wandering in the abyss that in the depths of the darkest of places lies the purest of all light, this is the only thing that can ever fill that small void... perhaps I see, perhaps I am blind... Purity of the soul, journey well!!! with grace and humility ANGEL