Flowers without fresh water will die. Poetry writing entries.

Im the monster.

Mentions of Religion

I can never do absolutely anything right.
I cause drama and I'm the reason I don't have friends, and cause big fights.

But I don't get mad unless I'm really hurt.
I just was trying to be enough.
I hate that my way of handling life is rough.

But life isn't living anymore, for me I'm now just surviving.
I'm like a wilted flower in August, too late for summer too early for winter, I wish I could be blossoming and thriving.

I'm too late to be of any Good to the people I care about.
And too early to be good or be cared about.

I wish to be enough.
Always the evil, never the good.
I don't think I genuinely even know what is Girlhood.

Here I am again, writing.
Because my mind is getting too much...
My own thoughts hurt more than anything else, words may hurt but not when your own thoughts that call you a monster.
They twist and turn I'm never enough and my thoughts they never foster

Never enough.
I'm just surviving.
I'm always the monster.
My thoughts howl like the wind at the beach, sand thrown in the air and I'm drowning in the waves of my dead dreams.
Because life isn't beautiful, it's horrific and it always goes unseen.

I close my eyes and I'm transported to a world unknown.
I look around no one is there and I don't even have my phone.

The dark clouds form angrily over the harbor.
This place of familiarity shapes in-front of me.
I'm surrounded by nothing but the sand and sea.

I stand to my feet, look over the waves building and bulldozing unto the shore.
The wind picked up, the sound against my ears was like a lion roar.

Make it stop I pleaded.
But the waves and thunder were far from being defeated.

Lightning struck across the ocean the clouds settled down and the rain poured from the sky.
What was going on, the wind whispering in my ear, all of the things my brain tells me.
I knew now why it was here I now know why.

Sand flew and twisted around me, the waves got closer to my feet.
I knew that I should have ran but my body already knew its defeat.

One massive wave that had been forming in the distance, held upon my head.
I closed my eyes now fully wishing I was dead.

It cashed unto me the weight of the world.
Tossing me around I was scrapped against the sand my blood was mixed in the water and the sand it swirled.

It violently threw me down I smack my head on a rock.
My last breath escaped through bubbles, tears, and a dead heartbeat I was in total shock.

The waves whistled in my ears, the push and pull conforming to the abyss,
Darkness surrounds
And the water talks about my failures and being a monster is the only thing that sounds.

My thoughts, are like a beach.
They cling to me and never let me go they are like a leach.

Drowning in my own thoughts and tears.
I cling to my only hope and the one person who will always rescue me.
The one I know will never leave the one who always sets me free.

Jesus, always pulls me from the ocean of my thoughts.
My friends just keep me there, and then leave.
the fight I put up with surviving in life, depression is such a thief.

I wish people would understand, I'm barely getting by my legs are to tired and my arm cramps from swimming.
My rescuer is Jesus because no one else gets my hinting.

Jesus gives me joy and reason when the winds of disappointment roar.
Sometimes I feel like bird whose wings were cut to short, because I could never possibly soar.

I'll walk on the ground forever one step behind because all my friends have strong wings to fly.
I'll never ask them to walk with me, because I'm far too shy.
Always the monster, never the good guy.
Trapped inside my ocean of a mind.

-a tired Ilona Darling