Poetry

Untitled

I feel nothing but pain.

Inside and out.

All the day

And all the night.

Nothing can stop.

This insanity of life.

Why bother trying?

There is no hope.

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Child Abuse, Friends, Poetry, Self Injury, Suicide

The War Within

There are the voices within that tell me I’m no good.

There are the people outside who tell me I’m okay.

So who to listen to?

There are the voices within that tell me it was my fault.

There are the people outside who tell me it wasn’t.

So who to listen to?

There are the voices within that urge me to slice and dice.

There are the people outside who want me to be safe.

So who to listen to?

There are the voices within that tell me the fight is useless.

There are the people outside who cheer me on.

So who to listen to?

 

April 4, 2007

Child Abuse, My story, Poetry

Innocence Lost

Every night as I lay in wait

Praying and hoping it would be a different story

Silently the door opens

I cannot run and I cannot hide

He comes in with stocking feet

Quietly so the secret won’t be told

He comes nearer

Close enough so I can feel his breath on my small body

As every other time, I close my eyes and wish I were anyplace else

A childhood shattered

And innocence lost

 

April 3, 2007

Emotions, Poetry, Suicide

Hold On…

 Hold On…

A Pueblo Indian Prayer

 
Hold on to what is good,
even if it’s a handful of earth.

 Hold on to what you believe,
even if it’s a tree that stands by itself.

 Hold on to what you must do,
even if it’s a long way from here.

 Hold on to your life,
even if it’s easier to let go.

 Hold on to my hand,
even if I’ve gone away from you.


I found this poem through StumbleUpon. It’s a nifty little add-on for Firefox.

Anyway, the part that hit me was “Hold on to your life, even if it’s easier to let go”. All day today (and in reality, the last couple days as well), I’ve been dealing with suicidal thoughts bordering on impulses. I’ve ignored chat requests from friends. And when I was trying to do some tech support before dinner, all I could think was “I wish this guy would hurry up and tell me what’s wrong so I can stop acting like I give a damn!”. A crappy attitude I know. But it was all I could think about.

It would be so damn easy to just give up on living. I know it. I think about it constantly. So why fight anymore and go on? I don’t know. I was raised Catholic so I know I’ll go to Hell if I kill myself. But what difference does that make seeing as I’m going there anyway. That’s certainly not stopping me.

Maybe if I end my own life, the people who hurt me will end up winning. And I don’t think I want that. I’ve lost so much in the 18 years I lived with the parental units and the years I dated James. So maybe it’s time for me to win for a change.

I think about the kind of pain I’d cause my friends if I ended my life. I don’t want to hurt Jord or Keith or Cori or Nicolas or Melanie or Tim like that. It wouldn’t be fair to them. Not after all they’ve done to try and help me. It would be extremely selfish on my part.

With all the pain right now, it’s hard to see if there is the possibility of happiness in the future. I’m told there is, but it’s hard for me to believe it.

So I go on. I keep moving through this life despite how I feel. I can’t ever promise that I won’t end my life. But I’ll do my best to hang on as long as I can.

Child Abuse, Poetry

Alone in the Dark

There she lies
On the bed
Under the covers

In the distance
In the dark
Cries ring out

Fear envelops
Like the grass on the earth
Closing around her

Silently she begs
Please no more
Please no more

No one to hear the cries
No one to feel the pain
Alone in the dark

 

February 19, 2007

Emotions, Poetry

the face in the mirror

i stand in front of the mirror
alone and
tired and
shaking
knowing not
what will happen next
i see a face
far away
a stranger
somewhere
in the depths of my mind
i ask
who is this
she stares back at me
mimicking my expressions
i have a funny feeling
she is me
but how can that be
she looks like me
but that is it
she doesn’t feel like me
i see a face
far away
a stranger
a stranger that is me

February 2, 2007 

Poetry

Time

The days pass

Time marches on

The past remains

Invades every moment

Of waking life

The memories stay

In her mind

Taunting her with

Feelings of dread

Thoughts of despair

Memories of terror

January 17, 2007