I am many…yet I am few, the shell of one, the body of them.
My interests varies from A to Z, my style is multicolor with a black base… So who am I?
I am me.
I am not defined by your standards, my complex ways may appear indecisive but keep in mind that this body is just a shell…if broken, I will not be able to contain the many that dwells within…they will all become their own person which will bring about chaos…so this shell will remain intact as I continue to skip and dance in new adventures determine to occupy the many sides of me… because my days and nights never ends.
Why must we keep rehashing the issue? The physical pain I feel is remembrance enough to last a lifetime. I dream the pain I wake up in pain I move in pain I breath pain…. it could of been worse they say, but does that make the pain go away?
Mentally my walls are cracked my back is broken and I’m not sure how to get my sanity back…. I know the physical will eventually leave but who will fix the mental piece….
Dreams of rage of fire of shame, dreams of dying as the shots runs though my brain…. So why must we keep rehashing?….
Forget, I want to forget but how do I achieve that when the chants becomes louder “You deserve it” they say, you know it will never go away it was part of their plan so will you let it stand or will you open your hand and give your dart a chance to calm your heart and dance?
Pop a pill to ease the pain pop a pill so your dark remains sane ….Now I see that this is why they take their lives and the others too ….the dark is strong and it’s getting stronger… Pop a pill to make it weak will they know that the struggle is real?… No, no because If we continue to tell ourselves that it was us that caused the pain, then we can keep the dark at bay…. “Move slow” don’t listen…”breath calm” don’t listen… “break the restraint” don’t listen….When will it stop?!
Often times I listen and want to comply,
Often times I listen but know it’s a lie.
One day will I listen and fuel the fire? Will I wallow in the glory of death for bloods attire?
Often times I wonder… will I listen?
Nothing is forever, nothing will ever be perfect…
the right moment is a dream, the pain will come to engulf you when you least expect it and then your joy will be shattered like fragile china…
harmony will never be felt because of the storm raging so close to the surface…
nothing is forever and forever means nothing.
I’m use to it…At times the silence is deafening but it has now become my companion…
I’m use to it…The cold is numbing but my heart no longer yearns for the warmth of you…
My bed is a coffin of wonder where I dream of things I may never see, a red sky with falling bones and clouds of rotting flesh…I’m use to it…
I live in the comfort of my own world where my imagination and my dreams are my pacifier…would you not join us?
I smile as I listen to myself converse while listening to those beautiful soothing melodies we so love to sing…I’m use to it…The many sides of me, the good the bad, the loving, the beautiful, the hated and the ugly…I’m use to it…I’m use to being me.
…when there is no one to turn to when you feel like your heart is about to explode and your brain will fry, what can you do?
Some turn to religion, others take their lives but most turn to drugs…yet the problems just go on…So when there is no where to turn what do you do…
Pouring down, blood rain is pouring down…I turn my face towards the sky to taste the sweet nectar on my tongue….smiling as I remembered the cause of this joyous occasion…your pain, my hands… your bleeding heart in my palm of my hands…rain is pouring down…blood rain is pouring down.