I dug myself in here, knowing I wouldn't come out I was okay with that. I let myself fall even when I knew the parachute wouldn't deploy. I'm gonna let myself kick and hurt and bleed and cry because that's normal right? What is normal. How many times do you have to scream before someone hears? How long must I try? Rejected more times than accepted, I'm looking in the mirror and I don't like what's reflected. My sensitivity to emotions is gone, I'm losing myself to myself. I want something I know I can never achieve and get is strive. Silly boy, you can't do that. Step aside, watch me. What good are you anyway? You throw your scorn and anger at me, and I don't feel it because I'm already numb. Kill these voices in my head and let me live my life in piece. I want happiness, why won't anyone let me have it? Can someone just fucking save me already?
I've been nothing but a hero, yet the one time Superman falls from the sky, nobody bats an eye? I'm Pinocchio turning back into wood. I don't feel anymore. There's only pain. What joy comes from me isn't real. I'm in need of love, it's long past a craving. Where's the love you promised me mother, where was the support you promised me father? Am I expected to lead this family into success when I'm on the verge of civil war? These faces with eyes all fixed on me, expect me to make something of myself, not to cry, to show them the way. Stop mocking me.The elders are watching me coronate myself, with shame disguised as honor. I can't. I'm broken. There is no glue to fix a broken man. None. I'm sorry. Isaiah's broken.
Who needs him though right? He's replaceable, we're all replaceable. Sure he's nice, but what's that in the scope of life? I'm trapped between two extremes, anger and sadness, both spawned by me. Why do I do this to myself? I was the rock for so long, so I'm just the pebble. I can't keep pretending that I'm sane. I've lost it. I'm not okay. Do I even mean that? Is my own brain deceiving me? What am I? Can someone tell me? Why am I asking questions I already know the answer too? Why won't I cry? I threatened to punch a wall but collapsed and curled up and started hyperventilating. I'm not myself. I'm not me. Isaiah isn't here right now. Who knows if he'll ever be back.
