Andi
03-10-04, 09:20 AM
I've mentioned to a few that yes, I am indeed on a spiral downward that feels as though it has no bottom. I have miracle meds and the best doctor that my insurance can afford and yet, here I am crashing again. I spent most of the night crying and shaking, feeling sorry for myself. Then I realized that no matter who I try to turn to there are no answers. Nothing for me to cling to. Their solace is appreciated but fleeting...vapid. It doesn't matter what advice is given or revelations that are made. I continue to hurt the one's I love with words, showering them with my hatred and insecurities. An exposed nerve, prepared to inflict the reflection of pain that the inner self has been consumed by for years. Hospitalization?...Intensive therapy?...No matter how much this scares me I still have no idea how to instigate the process. And yes, perhaps my fear creates the false sense that I CAN do this alone. But here I am...the victim of me.
Last night I decided to write since I was feeling so grand. I'm not the type that shares these types of things but I've come this far so what the hay. For your reading pleasure I would like to present a fraction of me.
Cast into a lonely prison; locked away in darkness
Initial fear manifests into anger as the heart blackens
Beyond the walls is laughter, feeding the core resentment
Their deafening sounds overwhelming, their bliss absurd
In the darkness a whisper, softly weeping in idled despair
Huddled in the dank corner a child, frightened and scared
Unreachable, inconsolable…words mean nothing now
A spotlight shines into the chamber, the inquisition begins
Who are you? Why are you like this? What has caused your pain?
Overwhelmed by their questions, reeling from uncertainty
Quaking from the intrusion, saddened, unable to answer
The mind shatters into pieces scattering across the floor
Shock floods the senses, staring in disbelieving horror
Quickly scrambling to gather them, tears of anguish flow
Retaining the shards in hand, pressing them to the breast
Desperately holding them together, they slowly disintegrate
Searching for a way to mend the severed pieces, crying out
Can’t you see? Don’t you understand? Won’t someone please help?
The solemn cries evaporate in the air, unrecognized, unheard
Huddled on the floor mothering the pile, tending to the ruins
Looking towards the youth that’s been locked away in this cell
There are no answers, nothing left; the child has become a shell
An awareness sweeps across the body, raking across the soul
All the years have been sorely lost, the constant battles futile
The hatred swells and deepens, the bitter loneliness consuming
The future bleak; floating through the air unanswered questions
Is this all there is? Will it get any better? Can there be anything else?
Suddenly, there lying on the floor are solutions, keys to the door
Examining the pieces, dubious as to which of the three will be right
One laden in obscurity, burdened in countless years of rediscovery
The other a familiar key, bottled emotions and repressed memories
The third glitters like gold, illuminating the room, releasing the fear
Holding it in hand, it offers promises of eliminating the years of pain
To soothe the heartache, expelling the rage and bury the child’s shell
A satisfying calm consoles the heart dulling the spirit, the moment will tell
The wrong decision? A sense of loss? To finally let go is immoral?
There was no recognition when sought; the concern was fleeting at best.
Common practice to suck the morrow from my being and discard the rest
I’ve screamed and begged, I’ve asked to be loved, yet left standing by myself
Where were you when I asked for help, when I was sacred and cried alone?
The constant requirement was to fuel the façade, fake smile, and false laughter
No one wants what is broken, turning away from what they don’t understand
The child is dead, denied the opportunity to have a day in the sun; to be a kid
The adult follows suit, the mind exhausted, the pieces still lying on the floor
Don’t weep; there are no tears just a memory, a faint mark where I once stood.
Question only the disappointment that shadows your heart, the guilt is all yours.
Last night I decided to write since I was feeling so grand. I'm not the type that shares these types of things but I've come this far so what the hay. For your reading pleasure I would like to present a fraction of me.
Cast into a lonely prison; locked away in darkness
Initial fear manifests into anger as the heart blackens
Beyond the walls is laughter, feeding the core resentment
Their deafening sounds overwhelming, their bliss absurd
In the darkness a whisper, softly weeping in idled despair
Huddled in the dank corner a child, frightened and scared
Unreachable, inconsolable…words mean nothing now
A spotlight shines into the chamber, the inquisition begins
Who are you? Why are you like this? What has caused your pain?
Overwhelmed by their questions, reeling from uncertainty
Quaking from the intrusion, saddened, unable to answer
The mind shatters into pieces scattering across the floor
Shock floods the senses, staring in disbelieving horror
Quickly scrambling to gather them, tears of anguish flow
Retaining the shards in hand, pressing them to the breast
Desperately holding them together, they slowly disintegrate
Searching for a way to mend the severed pieces, crying out
Can’t you see? Don’t you understand? Won’t someone please help?
The solemn cries evaporate in the air, unrecognized, unheard
Huddled on the floor mothering the pile, tending to the ruins
Looking towards the youth that’s been locked away in this cell
There are no answers, nothing left; the child has become a shell
An awareness sweeps across the body, raking across the soul
All the years have been sorely lost, the constant battles futile
The hatred swells and deepens, the bitter loneliness consuming
The future bleak; floating through the air unanswered questions
Is this all there is? Will it get any better? Can there be anything else?
Suddenly, there lying on the floor are solutions, keys to the door
Examining the pieces, dubious as to which of the three will be right
One laden in obscurity, burdened in countless years of rediscovery
The other a familiar key, bottled emotions and repressed memories
The third glitters like gold, illuminating the room, releasing the fear
Holding it in hand, it offers promises of eliminating the years of pain
To soothe the heartache, expelling the rage and bury the child’s shell
A satisfying calm consoles the heart dulling the spirit, the moment will tell
The wrong decision? A sense of loss? To finally let go is immoral?
There was no recognition when sought; the concern was fleeting at best.
Common practice to suck the morrow from my being and discard the rest
I’ve screamed and begged, I’ve asked to be loved, yet left standing by myself
Where were you when I asked for help, when I was sacred and cried alone?
The constant requirement was to fuel the façade, fake smile, and false laughter
No one wants what is broken, turning away from what they don’t understand
The child is dead, denied the opportunity to have a day in the sun; to be a kid
The adult follows suit, the mind exhausted, the pieces still lying on the floor
Don’t weep; there are no tears just a memory, a faint mark where I once stood.
Question only the disappointment that shadows your heart, the guilt is all yours.