I sit in the living room with my family, and I'm completely alone. My head pounds, I just want to be stoned but I already know that I'm stuck. I'm stuck with my problems, with my disease, I never feel free, the problem is me. why can't you see that we are stronger together than we are apart. It tears at my heart, I'll lose you when I'm lost in the dark, it's some fucked up repetitive farce and I need you to realise my bite is not as bad as my bark, my head hunts me down like I'm a fish and it's a shark and it's teeth are razor sharp, ripping and cutting me off until all I can do is find a fresh start. You'll move on from my broken self, or else you won't. I don't know which option scares me more, you leaving and finding a cleaner shore, me being left behind like some emotional whore that's only good for a score, or you staying by my side, fighting to guide my blind eyes to the light, trying to convince my mind that this is right. I can't, I won't forgive myself for bringing you into this hell, can't you tell that long ago I fell and now I'm locked under some evil spell? Even when I'm surrounded by silence my head is never quiet and I'm still trying to fight it but I'm predestined to lose, it's not something I would choose, not for me or for you, the sky is no longer blue, it's true that you knew I was ill, my head makes mountains out of hills and it still gives me chills knowing i may never refill my heart that spilled. These words are not mine, they just come from inside, I know that I've tried to hide what I find disgusting, it's not a friendly discussion when I say my head pounds but there's no concussion, I've tried running and cussing and fighting and fucking but nothing keeps my dark thoughts from sucking the life out. I'm in the living room with my family because after several hours and several pills I still can't sleep. Music drones on in my room, not knowing that I'm not listening. My tears might be glistening on my pillow right now. My heart feels like it's blistering, I've been burnt by the heat of my passions and now I'm filled with cold embers. I wish I could remember what it's like to be a member of the world with a blue sky, instead I'm just a blank face on some blue guy who might not even be able to try, who might live life as one defeated sigh. It's time to end my playlist's feeble life, because I'm not listening.
And the Storm rages on within me.
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The Storm - A Collection of Original Poems
PuisiThis collection is one I started several years ago, when my life was dark and the words flowed easily onto the page. Days have changed, but The Storm never truly went away. I don't know when this project will be complete, if ever, but I know the wor...