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i wish i had a reason to be helped. a reason that made me less hopeless. pathetically thinking just maybe, someone will notice, someone will care, someone will just fix me.
but it just doesn’t work like that
like the ideas that reside only within my overly-imaginative head, nobody will ever hear or see what i embody. i just write instead. i dance around my true intentions with metaphors so my desolation can just barely bleed through the facade i embrace.
taking the time to find words that can fully embody my pain is futile. trying to stick big, jarring words like ‘disembowel’ and ‘contradictory’ into sentences that ultimately are heard by none other than myself, is a useless waste of time. i cant rebel against my own self, im stuck in this vessel for as long as my heart beats.
i want to say it so blatantly. i want all that i know to be heard and known and be anything but my own demise. would it help? would it make me feel better to just say it? to just state how im slowly dwindling into nothing more than a useless naïve being?
i cant be seen as anything but stupid. i know you cant see my emotions, i try so hard to be perfect for you. to be perfectly oblivious and just exist everyday. you dont want to know my thoughts, you wouldn’t take them seriously anyways.
ive got to drape it in this silken menagerie. let it gather dust in the history of my repressed emotions.
this one? oh it doesn’t have a title does it? ive reached the point where its just so meaningless and pitifully stupid that it cant be characterized as more than a hopeless emptiness.
time is so unbearable
waiting for something to happen, waiting for it to pass
i just want to be okay
i want everything that ails me to cease
im trying so hard to live
im trying to hard to be okay and i just cant
as if the universe itself is against me
it just continuously tricks me
this is so pointlessly cruel