Nobody asked me how I’m doing
but if they did I would lie anyway
because if I said what I really felt
I would scream or be completely silent.
Whenever I try to think about it
my thoughts just get in the way.
But I will make this confession
if it’s the last thing I ever say.
I am alone in my mind and my body
no matter where I go or what I do.
I don’t want any healing
or wisdom from anyone.
I thought I knew what was missing
Until I found it. Wanting.
What do I do now?
I fool myself, to prove myself...
Wrong? Right? It doesn’t matter.
I have no more questions,
I am sick of the answers.
I would die to save my soul,
but my soul died to save me instead.
I keep trying to surrender
But it doesn’t stop the fighting.
I eat myself alive every day,
yet somehow I’m still starving.
So what do I do now?
I guess I defend this dead end.
I don’t like when the flowers bloom.
I don’t like when the water flows.
I don’t like when the sun shines.
I don’t like when the breeze blows by.
I only like quiet, icy nights in the desert
where the stars are at arms length above me.
I like to wander out there with no water.
I only feel alive when I am close to death.
I want to live on the dark side of the moon,
a bleached-white skeleton,
forgotten, forsaken, forgiven.
I would happily crumble slowly into dust
To shed every memory of this life.
But I am forced to settle for this
dreadful life so loud and bright,
so full of pain and excitement
that I find no home to rest in.