Under The Sheets With A Flashlight
All alone with my thoughts and nothing to do but write them down and hope that it eases my mind and lets my body go to sleep. Oh, what I would do for sleep. What I would do for rest. Constant wrestling with my sheets as my mind wrestles with hope and worries. My tear-stained sheets bring no warmth to my cold and bitter heart. As I toss and turn while I think of everything that could still go wrong. I used to think that things couldn’t get any worse… I was wrong. I set myself up higher only to make the fall longer and the crash harder. The only lesson I learned was to never put hope into anything because you’re just holding yourself hostile to more pain and fear. If you are given what you have hoped for, it will only be taken away from you to want again. Then it will never return. It will bring you to the point where nothing else matters and no one can help you but yourself, and you’ve stopped caring. You know that caring will only cause more trauma and heartbreak. You can’t handle anymore pain. You’ve already done enough damage to your brain and your flesh. So you just lay here in the four walls of hell, on the bed of bricks and needles, while your blood-stained pillow offers nothing but memories of what you’ve lost. So you give up… You fall over… You die… On the inside for now, you’ll save the outside for later.
I’m so tired of being tired.
I’m so sick of being sick.
I’m so angry that I’m sad.
I’m so sad that I’m angry.
I’m put up with being put up with.
I just want to be wanted.
I don’t want to be unwanted.
I hate myself for hating myself.
I can’t feel the things I hide.
I can’t hide the things I feel.
I hurt myself for hurting others.