Wednesday, August 1, 2012

Old Writings 6


Screaming. Pain. Darkness. Hideous whispers of self destruction. Desolation. Worthlessness. Ugliness. Looking in the mirror is a horrifying nightmare. Such ugliness. Imperfections. Disgusting.

I’m crying, I’m screaming…. Silence, nothing is really coming out.

This pen I hold is my outlet, yet so much more goes unsaid. What words are there for this lonely nightmare I live?

Just pain and darkness

I’m breaking. I’m dying, just not fast enough. Slowly Slowly giving into the spreading darkness that welcomes death.

Sleep, Oh how wonderful it would be to sleep… forever. Never to wake, never to dream. Just to float.

My soul is screaming for help. Where will it come from? Will it come? Do I really want it to come?

Living has become a chore. Haunted I’ve become, haunted my soul cries out in pain and desperation. Crying out to be saved. Who will mend my broken soul and spirit? Who cares enough to take the time? Who will help? Who will understand? Who will take my pain away? Who will put the glitter back in my eyes? Who can? If they can….. will they?

Broken… Crying…. Falling… Despair… Suffering….

Just let me go

                Let me go


                                I just want to go…. 

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