2 poems if anyone feels like reading....
I wish I knew what to do.
I'm restless in my environment.
The world is on my shoulders yet all my decisions seem to be being made for me.
Its all just a beautiful mess and to be honest I dont know if I know how to put the pieces back together.
I feel alone in great company if you know what I mean.
These final years in this drowning city seem to be the most important but I just dont know if I am strong enough to handle it.
All the pressure comes down to me hiding under my sheets afraid to face reality.
Sometimes I just want to toss up my hands and give up but it wont get me anywhere.
I know that falling for a moment doesnt hurt so I know I'm not falling for now...just falling to pieces.
Sometimes I wish I could just drive away from this disaster I have seemed to create for myself.
Just for a while, make this weight disappear.
The future is the future and it is already mapped out so I dont see a problem with my simple request.
But I just cant walk up and say I need a break, it seems I have to be falling apart to get a second to breathe.
I guess I am a victim of action and consequence.
Someday, I have to keep telling myself.
Someday I can drive away from the wreck of the day when I say its time.
But until then I have to be perfect, the cameras are rolling and all are waiting for me to save their souls of course.
I cant fix myself yet.
So I'll swallow my tears for sanity's sake and find a way around my mess
Something must be keeping me from jumping right?
I mean this wire around my neck isn't there for fun.
The feeling is like putting a paper bag over your head and saying if I cant see you then you cant see me.
But it will all be ok, someday I can fly away to somewhere without rain and be me.
I have cheated destiny and known what its like to fight for my life so with reading my previous words I sound selfish but there is only so much I can take at a time.
So please I ask let me down from my glass pedestal to catch my breath for the first time since time began ticking.
Crying for a life they all think she has
She cant let go of the things written on her pages
Shes starving for a world where hurt doesnt exist
And everyone is so blind
They never even notice
The blood on her hands keeps her sane and the dead roses keep her closed inside
Falling behind to bleed black
The damage has been done
There is no turning back
And with her last breathe she still manages to say "I'm sorry"
Alone with herself she drifts away
Into a world she built for herself
Her story will always be left ok these pages
For anyone who wants to look upon her dead days
But you will never know the real story
The story of when she cried red through her veins and never woke up from her bathroom floor