SOS

bowling_mill_8

Teardrops
Rolling from my eyes
Forming a pool of water as they hit the ground
Soaking my lower body as I walk through
I bump my feet on hard Rocks as I navigate through this darkness
I am lost
I have no idea who I am
I have been so many things and In the end I have lost my reality
Please find me
Please look for me
I have been forced to take up an Identity of perfection
Stuck in a body that denies sorrow
Made to feel that I have no right to be upset or depressed
Cause of the Idea of religion, adulthood
And the Idea that people are going through worse
Stuck with the feeling that I am not supposed to explode
So I walk around with a smile and a happy face
Burying every sorrow and sadness
Burying every hurt
And when I get behind closed doors
I close my eyes and for a moment everything fades away
But when I open my eyes
I see shattered glasses
Broken tables
Broken doors
Broken wrists and bleeding fingertips
My blood has become my ink
Writing and painting red on the wall
Asking myself
who am I?
What have I done for me?
Why am I here?
I find myself pulling my skin
Hoping that it’s a cloth and I can find myself within what’s deep
But no answer
Just frustration
Just pain
My throat hurts
My eyes bleed and my heart is torn
My blood interrupts the flow of my writing
As It merges with the ink and destroys my letter to the world
Blood sweat and tears have become my reality
But I tell myself
All will be well
As I walk down the dark corridors and watch versions of myself
Kicking the chair and clinging on to the rope from above
I find this version with his rope and chair
Waiting patiently for his turn to fade into oblivion
Saying, Perhaps in a forever sleep
Will I find What’s hidden deep.

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