A Journy Into My Thoughts

The End

When the grave sings its temping lullaby I will not turn away. I will turn my ears to the sound of millions of souls as death opens his arms to me. I will not resist as they lay my naked body on the slab. I will not comfort the people who come to see me in wake. I will not cry when the funeral march begins for there is no life to mourn. I will not resist as the dirt is heaped on my corpse and nor will I turn from the maggots who feast on my bare flesh. I will embrace the long cold nights for the silence comforts my lonely soul. If there is no reason for life then why do we continue to march through life? What are we marching for? We fight and we claw our way through the swarms of masses rotting and festering with puss. If money does not give us happiness then what does? What if I don't know how to be happy? What if I don't want to fight? Whose choice is it really if I don't want to keep going? Why do I have to keep living when my mind is torn apart like a jig saw puzzle? Why do I have to keep pushing myself for the satisfaction of others? Why can't I stay in bed all day with the curtains drawn and the heater on, alone and quiet in silence. Why can't I give into the festering thoughts inside my head screaming for relief screaming for something to distract me? The razor blade in the bathroom, the pills on the shelf, the bleach under the sink, the knife in the drawer, the poisonous liquor on the shelf and these bubbling thoughts. I think I am lost... Lost in a world of make believe where my thoughts hold no merit as long as my face is plastered with bright shinning eyes and pouty lips so that everyone thinks I am ok. In the end my thoughts don't matter because I hold it together for the sake of those around me but I do it so well that I have become lost in my own lies holding back the chilling details for fear that I will see my broken shell and disappear. I don't want to live this way... one minute life can be a beautiful bowl of apples sitting on the counter, basting in light of the sun, tantalizing. Other days the moon comes from the shadows and my body is under the control of fear, rejection, anxiety, and sadness. How do you control the thing that controls your body? Do I let them dope me up so I live my life in a haze or do I continue to fight constantly reminded of the battles I have lost in the scars my body displays? To be or not to be, that is the question. Perhaps I am being dramatic lost in the glimmering dark pool that Lucifer drinks from. Perhaps it is a result of my over active mind constantly pondering the evils and woes in life. Maybe one day I will be happy in what I have. Maybe one day I will silence my mind.