Sick
By forgoten_wolf
my self being restrains me
a battle within my own mind
this life unjust and unfair
impractical as the shadow that follows unconsciously
tired from sobbing these useless tears before bed
unmotivated
unwanted
unneeded
boil my brains in bleach
you remark that everything will be all right
which is nothing but an untruth
my vents solve nothing
your advice leaves everything the same
adrenaline uncalled for pumping through my veins
guts dismantled easily wit one hand
my heart plummets like a stone
this life implies nothing anymore to those then to its owner
the mentality to fight, to defeat fifty men
the strength not even to take a half step forward
the cast torn off
limping towards these empty goals
indecisiveness leading me nowhere
all these irrational complications
why can't someone just take it away
left ill dizzy and light headed
the scars proving I can only endure so much
the end not too far away nor close enough to reach
your hatred tearing off the stitches
the next more challenging while still bruised with the past
pills take no effect their side effects overwhelming
I deserve this not give this chance to another
every blow tightening the rope
like an injection of morphine
this weathered soul feels no longer
each breathe a waste of time
every heart beat taken not of
this time bomb awaits for the end of the ticking
Comments on "Sick"
-
On Saturday, July 28, 2018, Jonas Robinson
(848) wrote:
Such a moving piece. At times we forget who we are at other times. It's almost as if we live lives we do not even know that we live. Indeed, it's a cold feeling. Freshly nice ink.