Fallen

Week 2

  I don't know my name.
I don't really know who I am anymore...
I've been marooned. Abandoned.
Left to myself, which is quite dangerous.
Why? Why would you do this to me?
People say that torture or being locked away is the worst punishment.
They're wrong because they forgot one thing.
We all go crazy with ourselves.
Even now, I can feel my morality fading and my loneliness begin to creep up the back of neck.
The broken promises are in shards, raking across my back and bleeding out the care that I had worked so hard to give.
My faith walks on broken glass with bare, bleeding feet.
Trapped with my mind, hearing screaming lullabies with voices as soft as thunder.
Hollow words echo throughout my heart and tear me apart from the inside out, word by word.
Contradictory agreements and angry laughs erupt from every which direction and echo so loud that my ears ring.
When you make sacrifices for someone, you pray they aren't in vain.
I can feel the screams of sadness and grief longing to be expressed and cries of anger dying to burst.
  My dreams are broken.
  I've been abandoned.
  And I don't know my name.

Stressed
Too much work
Understand and recite
Depressed lies
Expectations crash down
Never fall back
Try harder

Crack in your heart
Rate inside
You're not good enough

Silent pleas
Cries never heard
Repetitive sadness
Everlasting stress
Anxiety
Malicious demons

Loquacious gossiper
Ironic betrayal
Ass in disguise
Real culprit

  When we were in kindergarten, color was just for crayons and paper crafts.
As life progresses, so does our understanding and overall appreciation, but do we ever understand?
Our hues and beliefs deepen as we live, churning like deep ocean currents that rip in every other direction.
We don't simply 'feel blue' anymore, but a complex depressed-like gray.
Our souls are compared either to the purest white lights or the tainted blackness within.
We see hellfires burn red, along with the flesh and blood we bleed as we continue fighting to live.
Our colors can never die, only deepen into darker, more thoughtful hues.
We can feel green with envy or black with grief that beats down on us, like Atlas bearing the world in his shoulders.
True colors always seem to show in dire situations, but colors can be changed and remolded.
Our sun went from a simple yellow to a radiant combination of reds, oranges, and yellows; so why can't we change ours?
Our colors are free to fly like birds into a bright blue sky, no matter what happens.
  A color always has a deeper meaning, if you just learn to see the hues that shine.

*Had a week and writing was sorta my venting. I threw the last one in there, because it sorta seemed to fit. I dunno. Will try to post some more at some point. Thanks for reading.