PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I look at my past self, and I think how I'm suck a hypocrite. 

My favorite thing to say was, "If you have a problem live with it."

Always thought I was so strong..

Now, today..sometimes I don't know right from wrong.

And swooping in from left, I wish I was dead and gone.

I just want so bad for this love to go on, but I can't seem to find comfort

in anything.

I can't tell if I'm lieing to myself, or being reasonable.

It seems my sanity has become unreachable.

Sometimes I wonder if I had it all, all that I've ever wanted.

Would I be happy? or just disappointed.

I lose focus, I'm blurred, I don't know why this occurs.

Am I sick? Am I troubled? The pain and anxiety doubles.

I can't go back, no not to that...but I have and that's just a fact.

I can't believe it..but here I am..I'm back.

Walking along this abandoned road of broken glass, sinking in black.

What should I do? I'm crying inside...

Want to crawl back into my mother, take fetal position, hide.

As everyday passes, I sit back and sigh

Fake the happiness, in euphoria when the drugs get me high..

But thats no good...it just kills me more each time.

Is that what I want? Do I want to die?

This struggle is unbarable, it's so bad cause I'm fine..

Everything that's hurting me is all inside.

I'm so young, yet I'm so old..why do I have such a tormented soul?

I'm done with this, I really am..but I have so much to finish..

I'm swallowing everything, and throwing up these words..

Because its the only thing that controls my nerves.

I don't want to be seen, I don't want to be heard..

I just want to be me, and happy, but I guess it's absurd.

One day I'll go, to where I don't know..I could really care less.

As long as I know I've done my best..

I know it sounds morbid, but I never get rest..

Death seems to be the greatest relief of stress.