Ona Aria's Poetry Collection (2022-2024)

Not You, Not Me, Not I

Addicted to pain a different kind of maddeness.
 You don't understand that I lunge headfirst in.
A different kind of addict.
Pain is what I shoot in my veins.
 The syringe of abuse pricked into my blood stream.
Reaming against all sanity that I am even worth more than profanity spewed at my face.
I can't waste any breath to tell you anything more than lies.
Addicted to a certain kind of sadness.
A pain that has been my only friend.
I am wandering the streets looking for my next need.
if I am not in pain, I don't know how to exist
What a strange way of being heaving every thought that doesn't align with God.

Hold onto the thought that I am worthy of more than care, more than loving the whole world Such a large task for someone... so... small.
 I can't do this at all.
 But every time I hear those screams.
It rides up me and clings to me like armor.
How do you stop being an empath?
 How do you stop caring about everyone that walks past with a soul screaming.
 Do I stay silent, or do I say I understand?
Every time I care I am backhanded by the demons that cling to the humans unaware.
Bang my head on the proverbial wall!
I've only hollered and screamed about my pain.
 I can't withstand the empath in me.
I scream for Jesus to see the pain that I am in.
I feel like I am covered in sin.
Is it wrong to say I am done; I am screaming blue in the face.
To care about the soul that no one knows at all.
 But I am bruised and battered, weary.
I am tired of saving the souls that don't wish to be saved.
Can I stop saying it's going to be, okay?
 Can I stop clawing to be seen?
I want to continue on the path without scent of torture filling the nostrils of my body.
Let me just be somebody that walks on the street.
 Next the everybody in their comings and goings.
The lonely that rides up my spine in the dead of night.
 An empath's heart that is broken and tired.
Sorrow that fills with tears in my cornea.
Hardly wanting to visit life with the same joy.
 But I am expected, aren't I? Someone has to lead.
 Someone has to bleed.
Someone has to see...
The unseen
The needy
The broken.
But the one that is broken is me.
But I listen to the screams.

 When I all I want for me is to lay in the meadow and stop the tears from flowing from the child's heart.
Addicted to a certain kind of madness... Filling the cracks with gold.
I can't carry this anymore.
 Wonder what it's like to be okay.
To stay in that peace. Release.

Please leave me be in the meadow, I can't listen to the screams they made me bleed.
My cracked heart can't take the pain, I can't be the one to help you carry.
I haven't had time to grieve the blows in my own warzone.
I can't atone for my own sins and help you find your path.
 I can't attest the number of blunders and pain I have had to take on this skin of mine.
 I am black and blue from loving everyone.
but...
Me.
But...
ME...
BUT... 
ME!!
Can't you see how angry I am when I sigh having to give yet another piece of me to the hungry.
 What about me?
What about me?
Is it wrong to be selfish to want enough, to shout the truth to the midnight sun.
 To be myself in the dead of night when it's just me and God.
I am not doing the chase.
 I am sitting down in grace.
I will not go further than the meadow, the shadows of the forest are not mine to battle.

I want to sit in peace by my bedside and listen to the crackle of the fire on a peaceful night. Addicted to making others okay.
But ignoring myself when I say "Hey, let's love us."
I don't need permission from anyone but the shadow in the mirror.
Don't you see its us, it's you, it's me we are talking too.
Just breathe and let go, we will do it on three.
Just breathe and count to three.
 It's time for you and me to agree.
 For the freedom of our wings to spread into the sky.
For these doubts to die
For you and me to no longer lie and accept what is not mine to take.
Pain is not what makes us.