Sometimes I give up…
Sometimes I just sit back, and wish I was someone else, living another life.
I just feel that I can’t take any more.
I have tried so hard to understand, to accept, to agree, and to move on from the pain,
but it’s like a great weight, pulling me back, holding me down, and engulfing me.
I sometimes wonder what the point is in trying to sort things out,
given that I have to fight tooth and nail sometimes to be heard.
It would be so easy to run away to disappear to not be seen from, or heard from again.
Deep down I know I won’t be missed.
Deep down I know that I didn’t matter.
Sometimes I think that life is getting better,
and yet there is this gaping wound that is not healing.
I don’t know how to face it,
but I know that I will be facing it alone.
I sometimes I wonder where my friends are,
and what happened to all the people I have know and loved.
I sometimes wonder why they are gone from my life,
and if it was my fault.
Sometimes I just wonder if I think to much,
if I’m caught in a cycle of self reflection,
that ultimately has trapped me into feeling self loathing,
and self doubt.
I sometimes wonder if I have ever loved at all,
or did I just pretend so that I could feel love.
Maybe I don’t have the capacity to love,
or be loved.
Sometimes I wonder if I will smile and laugh again.
If my spirit will fly free and soar,
or will I spend the rest of my days alone,
trapped in an isolated self-created prison,
to which I no longer have the key,
or the understanding to escape.
I sometimes just wonder why,
but know that road leads to madness and insanity.
Still, they are better company than loneliness.
They are much better company than fear.
Sometimes I wonder if it’s all a dream,
and if one day I will wake up and find out that I am someone else,
and that I have another life.
The truth is sometimes just too painful to bear.
I sometimes wonder what happened to the dreams I had,
and the future I once wanted,
I wonder what happened to the life I once had.
Sometimes I think I must have dropped it along the way,
or put it down somewhere and forgot about it.
Sometimes I wonder why I believe that things will get better,
when the reality is that belief is fleeting.
What I want, what I need is a moment that I can believe in,
that I can hold on to,
and worship when the darkness comes.
I sometimes just wander,
and try to loose myself in a memory,
anything to escape the dreadful certainty that my time has gone past,
and that I missed the sign pointing me the right way.
And sometimes, just sometimes I believe that tomorrow just might be a better day…