Not anymore
For years I have been under the chain of silence. How scared I was and still am. I tell myself I am a victor, not a victim anymore. Yet the scars never fail to remind me how shattered my spirit was (and still is).
Forgiveness is beyond the thinkable. I thought I have released my oppressors from the realm of bitterness and anger. Gone is the feeling of self-pity, but I still cringe everyday at the loss of something beautiful, something unexchangable. I have lost my self-worth.
I can’t appreciate myself. It is so easy to compliment others and truly appreciate the little things, but never with myself. I try to find something useful in me by smothering my friends with affection and eventually involving myself in their activities. What a fool I am. At present, I am losing friends and gaining fake sympathy.
How absurd these things are! I know I am not alone. I strive to believe that somewhere in the world, there is someone who knows such pain, the undeserved shame, and the consequences resulting from someone else’s acts. What sucks really bad is that everyone else thinks their petty problems are worse than their neighbor’s whose silent cries never amount to anything.
I’m searching for a U-turn.
Oh the things we do to appear sane
How blind we people are.
They pity you.
Revile
are your words.
How they silently laugh at you!
You, who fool yourself
with the thought of being on that pedestal
by stepping on those who fear you,
are subject to greater forces.
To flee
from where you are now
would benefit you.
Go.
If you love your soul,
give it to Someone else.
Allergic to self
When the kind acts you do make you want to vanish,
When the sweet words you say push you to swallow nails,
When the good thoughts you think start to drive you insane;
For no matter how much you try to prove that you mean what you do, think, and say,
You are taken for granted,
Laughed at,
And mocked.
Then you start looking at yourself with their eyes
and decide to kill your own being.
Suicide.
Riverside
Can you hear it?
I leapt towards the rustling sound
and surprised myself.
There was nothing.
Water.
To the water I ran
and immersed myself in the cold
substance called liquid that is forever refreshing.
How my heart cried for peace within.
How I yearn for something worthy
of this indignation I have to deal with.
Nothing,
nothing can appease this longing,
not even moments on the riverside.
My heart is torn
It is hardest to show the ones you love
how you really love them.
Screw this world.
