Here's a 'poem' i wrote pouring out my emotions. I wanted to share it but obviously couldn't share them with my parents or friends or anything.
Sometimes I feel like I cant measure up
like the weight of this world is pushing down on my shoulders
and then i look up
and all i see are my flimsy excuses
without meaning or stature or backbone,
they fall away, with barely a breath.
and yet they feel soul-crushing and unbeatable
in the midst of the pressing
why do i feel so crushed
by something that is my fault.
this is a cry out
a cry out of pain
a cry out for the world
i know not what to do anymore
at times i feel great.
not a worry in the world,
not what im going to wear or eat.
other times it cracks,
like a whip.
one second here,
the next planning my death.
The peculiar thing is,
its planned in certainty,
with the thought of anything else an absurdity.
I have a peace of death wash over me,
like the end is already there.
and then i sleep (or don't)
and rise the next day.
to find that it felt like a dream
but I know it was real.
Why, oh why,
does this happen.
over
and over
again.
I look to the Lord and ask him,
why oh why God, do you allow
all of this to happen,
and you seem to stand strangely dim,
in the corner, watching.
I wish i could demand a sign.
my whole life ive been taught to suck it up and pretend.
never by word or lesson,
but by action.
never did i think i could escape,
the intrusive thoughts of this age.
Why oh why God
Why does this happen.
hear my heart cry
and my cheeks wetten,
in the tears of truth
the pain of this life.
when in reality,
nothing truly "bad" has happened.
not to me, to my family,
there is always someone else worse off.
sometimes i wonder whats true.
is the mind that powerful,
to create images and hallucinate.
to the point of creating supernatural experiences,
and even beings.
this work is not meant for popularity.
but rather to share my inward thoughts.
Why oh why do these thoughts,
of death and ultimate joy,
plague me.
Can i not be somewhere in the middle
between ecstasy and apathy.
can i not seek the truth,
without having my world thrown at me.
why, oh why
Sometimes I feel like I cant measure up
like the weight of this world is pushing down on my shoulders
and then i look up
and all i see are my flimsy excuses
without meaning or stature or backbone,
they fall away, with barely a breath.
and yet they feel soul-crushing and unbeatable
in the midst of the pressing
why do i feel so crushed
by something that is my fault.
this is a cry out
a cry out of pain
a cry out for the world
i know not what to do anymore
at times i feel great.
not a worry in the world,
not what im going to wear or eat.
other times it cracks,
like a whip.
one second here,
the next planning my death.
The peculiar thing is,
its planned in certainty,
with the thought of anything else an absurdity.
I have a peace of death wash over me,
like the end is already there.
and then i sleep (or don't)
and rise the next day.
to find that it felt like a dream
but I know it was real.
Why, oh why,
does this happen.
over
and over
again.
I look to the Lord and ask him,
why oh why God, do you allow
all of this to happen,
and you seem to stand strangely dim,
in the corner, watching.
I wish i could demand a sign.
my whole life ive been taught to suck it up and pretend.
never by word or lesson,
but by action.
never did i think i could escape,
the intrusive thoughts of this age.
Why oh why God
Why does this happen.
hear my heart cry
and my cheeks wetten,
in the tears of truth
the pain of this life.
when in reality,
nothing truly "bad" has happened.
not to me, to my family,
there is always someone else worse off.
sometimes i wonder whats true.
is the mind that powerful,
to create images and hallucinate.
to the point of creating supernatural experiences,
and even beings.
this work is not meant for popularity.
but rather to share my inward thoughts.
Why oh why do these thoughts,
of death and ultimate joy,
plague me.
Can i not be somewhere in the middle
between ecstasy and apathy.
can i not seek the truth,
without having my world thrown at me.
why, oh why
