Im still sat here confused
Continuously trying to figure out the sick moral of my pain, adding everything up
Replaying the moments i felt despair creeping on my shoulder as i cried away the parts i loved most
The days i cried so much it sucked the life out of me to a point all i felt was empty and cold
Just to try and figure out why there's days i don't exist
Ones where i don't have the lungs to speak, or the mind to process, anything.
Where all i can do is stare and repeat "Why, why do i feel like this?"
Slowly killing me every time that voice echoes in my damn head
Closing my eyes and hiding under my blanket to protect me from what lurks in my darkest hours
Shaking at the fear of what my mind does to me
There's just no escape for what's carved in my heart, like a kiss from the devil burned into my soul
Im alone
-
Author:
Maya Strinz (Pseudonym) (
Offline) -
Published:
March 31st, 2017 23:42
- Category: Sad
- Views:
36
Offline)
Comments1
Sometimes we are acted upon and sometimes we act.
It's better to act.
Your writing is an act, so you are saying you exist through your pain.
Continue to act.
To act is to exist.
I've been in similar places.
I just keep acting.
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