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This poem was inspired by people who are hardly mentioned but are the most inspiring. It is for the lonely, the lost, the wondering, the ones who just can't stand asking for directions, and anyone in between.


Submitted:Jan 7, 2014    Reads: 66    Comments: 15    Likes: 5   


This is it.

A confession.

A tale of all tales, one not to be spoken or heard.

No.

I will scream it out at the top of my lungs, let it reverberate off the icy chasm that I've fallen into, until it breaks away the bitter permafrost left on my vocal chords.

I will belt this out with every last breath until the air has no choice but to absorb the words.

I refuse to remain silent.

I refuse to let the destruction cause more harm than it was ever worth, because sometimes dwelling on what you can't change is just as bad as saying you won't change what you can.

No, I won't succumb to the repetition of resolutions.

All fun and ganes to say, but the resolutions can only do so many revolutions around my brain before it seems like a race track of idiocy.

I'm not trying to win the race of most recovered.

Because sometimes when you crash and burn, the wreckage can free you. And if I was lucky enough to survive that high-speed bullshit, why would I want the debris to follow me?

I won't admit to perfection; even the most beautiful works of art are broken or frayed and yet people love them.

Sure I'm no armless Venus De Milo, but yet even she can stand tall and proud through ages of breakage and being defaced.

I can't deny the tormented thoughts or the pleas of help that pester me when I fear them the most.

But maybe realizing that I have a problem can be the first step in the right direction.

And yeah, I'm gonna get lost. I'm going to fall off the path and walk out, head first, into the oncoming traffic of life.

And it's gonna hurt like hell.

But eventually I'll get back on my feet and wander those streets until I find that path back to redemption. No matter how many hills or mountains thrown onto that path, I'm going to get there, even if I have to swallow my pride and ask for help.

I'm asking for help.

So maybe until then, we should all barricade our doors and surround ourselves with beautiful things and people so that someday, we will wipe the sleep from our eyes and see that we share the same beauty as them.

Let our lives be full of support and love, because sometimes all you need is a good hug and a cup of chicken noodle soup.

Wrap ourselves in warm blankets and slippers because the world is cold and you've got a long journey ahead of you.

But it gets better.

It gets a little easier as we go on.

And eventually, we'll make it.

We've got to make it.





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