Wednesday, July 27, 2011

The past.

This "poem" shows a whole a completely different side of me that a lot of people have never seen and probably never knew existed. I was in a really dark place and things just weren't going right for me. My grandmother had passed away, my friends had abandoned me, my grades were in the toilet and I just wasn't happy with myself. Looking back and reading this now my life has changed so much and I'm thankful for that.

Maybe I Am 
Tears plunge, the form of the drops of blood that amble down my outer vein.
I swear to God I’m going insane.
When did it all get so hard?
How do I make it stop? How do I prevent it from its start?
I don’t understand what’s happening.
What’s with the fury and the wrath that it brings?
I don’t want to be in this world anymore.
Given all life’s misery and eternal cycles,
death couldn’t possibly hurt more.
They say you can’t live without love, so why am I still here?
Not death, but life is my fear.
Loneliness controls me.
Only unconsciousness can set me free.
I cry and cry, but it doesn’t come out.
Stuck inside me, this twinge of never-ending doubt.
The harder I try, the more complex it seems.
Please tell me. I don’t recognize what it means.
Admiration of a child who knows not wrong from right.
Inside my mentality is a ruthless fight.
I try to escape but the doors shut in my face.
I hate this place!
What is wrong with the way that I am?
There’s something about me that no one can stand.
I don’t get it! I don’t get it!
What’s wrong? I’m pathetic!
Do I bawl and cut because I think people will care?
This isn’t fair!
I pray and I wait for things to get better.
About to engrave my ultimate letter.
The tears and the drips of blood never stop.
Eyes blurred, I observe, as faster they drop.
They aren’t streaming quick enough.
My tattered skin appears too tough.
Slit it again and again and again.
Don’t quit until I stop feeling the pain.
It goes on forever, dancing circles in my head.
God, I’d sign a contract for the chance to be dead.
Sob stories are retarded, I’m so stupid!
Like anyone cares what goes on in my head!
Why am I writing this? What’s the point?
If anyone reads it, they’ll just be annoyed.
They’re going to think I’m a psycho, that I’m mental or something.
That I should be in a hospital. I’m mortifying.
Why do they say it? I don’t understand!
Maybe… maybe… maybe I am!
Take me, accept me,
For what I show up to be.
Control my life; I can’t do it alone.
I’m despondently prone.
My face is getting paler and my body weakens with each slit.
I try not to show it.
Don’t pay attention, don’t notice, don’t care.
Don’t watch, don’t listen, don’t try, don’t look,
don’t stare.
Everything I do just makes it all worse.
Please pull me away from this curse!
I can’t go on like this, can’t survive any longer with what I see.
I hate myself! I hate myself! I hate having to be me!
Why can’t I be somebody that everyone likes?
Why is it always me who has to deal with all the revulsion of life?
I would give it all away in a second if I had the choice.
But I’m stuck in humanity with my pitiful voice.
Falling and spiraling, everything is black.
Thrown side to side, foreword and back.
Still the tears and the blood fall mutually to the floor.
Every seep of obsession kills me diminutively more.
Thoughts of the end fill my infatuated mind.
Dependent on time.
Don’t get what made me this way.
What was the influence that told me not to stay?
This intolerable pain and this force just won’t leave.
More thoughts of fatality I continue to receive.
How many more times do I have to bounce back to reality?
When is it enough? When can I stop being me?
I don’t even know anymore how I’m supposed to act.
Want to know when my life flew so off track!
Wish I wasn’t a part of this game.
Don’t want to be so insane!
Hate that I slash; hate being called psycho.
Why am I treated like I’m so far below?
Stop mocking me and making fun.
I give up on this game! Alright, you won!
I’m leaving! I’m leaving! I’m leaving this place!
Stop telling me, I know, I’m a disgrace!
Stupid, conceited, immature, psycho.
Retarded, ugly, friendless schizo!
I wish I could deny it, but I honestly don’t think I can.
Stop pointing it out! Maybe I am!

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