Life is just Darkness

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

A time in my life where I had to way of expressing things, so I wrote. I'm not a professional, so there may be things that make no sense.

So many times. I wake up, the sun shining in my face, but yet the world is dark. The emptiness inside me doesn’t fade for the times I lie awake searching for the answers to the happiness I ask so much for. My days are a patterns, a routine so bare and bitter tasting. I awake to the same dark day, and lie awake asking myself why I won’t change. If I hate it so much, why not change? The haunting unanswered question that I can’t bring myself to face. It flows to the front of my mind and I push it back as if it can be put to rest one day. I should be happy. I deserve it. The supporting family and the loving- yet I feel as though I’m neglected- boyfriend. Plans are made for the future, but why am I not excited? I have made the plans, so that should mean I am excited. The reality kicks in and I know I’m just doing what is expected of me. In your twenties, who still lives with their parents? A scared girl who doesn’t want to leave. Who isn’t ready to be on her own, but yet, is forced to do it. Someone who held on to the younger days and cherished them. I run to my parents, a frightened child. Crying that I don’t want to grow. I pray to God that he keeps me a child forever, knowing that it isn’t a possible act, not even for him. Of course that’s why my days are dark. The future. It is a mind boggling apparatus filled with the complications that one fears to face. Of course when you don’t want to face the things in life, they wake you up, like a rock being thrown in a puddle, splashing, and rippling, the waves in my mind cause the migraines waking the sickening feeling in my stomach. My subconscious screaming for answers. What is wrong with this dark world, and why are so many granted happiness except for me? So many times I beg just for a day of happiness. I’m exhausted. I don’t want to pretend. The fake smiles, the fake laughs. It’s all so repetitive. Doing the same thing every day, smiling like it’s something new. Why can’t I get out of it? What can I do to end this pain? My heart isn’t the same and I can’t find a solution to the problems. Tired of making excuses for my tears. I just want to cry and not have to explain myself, but again, I am so sick of the tears. Shedding the tears every day, making a new excuse for myself. You think I’m weak. I cry so often, I must be sensitive. Can’t handle my own you say? I’m strong. Come take a peek in my mind and try to tell me I’m weak. Tell me I can’t handle to harsh things you hide from me. Try to find the light. Please, be my guest. All you’ll find are booze filled nights trying to cover up the pain, and fear that I keep inside. The alcohol. It fades in my mind. A few hours where I don’t have to think. Think about the happiness everyone is so easily receiving. The happy memories that are fading as quickly as my mind is filled with darkness. I’m numb. It takes a hold of me and I am free. I let go of the burdens and laugh. A real laugh because I can’t remember the pain I was feeling. Then I sleep. The peaceful sleep. I don’t dream. Dreaming is for the ones with hope. I have none. I awake with sickness. Sickness from the night before. Sickness from pain that is flushing back into my mind. So I take another drink. Hoping that it pushes it all away. It’s rushing in like a broken dam and once again I am living the same day I lived yesterday, and every day before. It’s a routine. It’s life. You do what you can, and you die. All I can do is live and wait for my day. 


Submitted: September 03, 2015

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