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Smores
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Old 05-24-2013, 03:54 PM

I did once...

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Like thorns on the rose I too bear a defense of no discrimination, pricking all things that dare to come close - yet unlike the rose, this aspect on a person is less then flattering. What I feel I need, and do so natural is seen as unnatural. I'm told to let it go or amount to nothing.

An empty threat when I live my days already believing Ill never be more then dust in the wind. That no matter how hard I try, never will I have any impact on anything. That what another sees as a talent is not, for many more have said the opposite. That sadly my life has become so bogged by the words of others that they have left no room for me to write my own page. No room for me to take up pen and write my own words, those pages have long been theirs.

And so I spend my time reading their words, and believe them. Eating them up as if they were the last thing to sustain me upon this earth. Like my life depended on my ability to recite them word for word. And so I can, and I do.

Not only do I know them but I started to believe them. To trust in words of strangers for their voice is stronger then mine ever can be. My voice has died out among the crowd, neglected. Never heard or accepted yet expected to have so much to say when others say what they will for me. Always told to choose what I will do but always reminded what I can never be. Forced into roles that are predisposed but from what?

Why is my appearance so much of my potential. And to that why is that so detrimental, so minuscule and defected. That I look so wrong that never in my life can another appreciate anything I have or invented. That my thoughts too suffer at the the hands at how the light bends around me, painting me a monster in their eyes and for what? I can not tell you.

But they can and they have explained it to me on many occasions, made it clear that I was too fail and gave no real explanation. And those who thought to help simply told me that I had to ignore them. But how can that be done when the only things I hear are the words of those who would see me destroyed and then what?

Even now as things move forwards I feel still. The stillest of waters that bear no life and have no way of flowing. So heavy and poisoned by pollutants that their is no attempt made to clean it - why do it? Every thing of beauty needs a place for the garbage and that's me. In a sick way my purpose is to be the mass of wrong so theirs may be right. As if my existence is to soak up the wrong so all they have is the right.

My life feels more like a game in which I have no control and no not of the rules. Where others are the play makers and I can barely move because I try not too. Sick hopes of being removed or quitting the game ever plague me. And I share them I do but I'm simply told to change them, and how can I?

Told to stop being so negative and find the positive, yet the latter unknown how can I? Seems as if we forget the common phrase easier said then done, that people look at me like I'm dumb for being so down and not stopping it.

But you run out in front of the train and tell me how much it slows down, not at all. My body is frail and the things that I know they are plenty. And are fueled by things that have never cease and when will they? If ever.

An unstoppable object that is a life of poison, its tempting. Tempting to quit and stop the game altogether buy how can I? When somehow still I feel as if I can do something.

That my thorns and scars are a part of me no matter how much they are not everything. That the bud on top is still something. That somehow how or someday the stars will align and Ill blossom.

Yet this wait is all pain and the suffering unending so how can I? Continue to wait when waiting is all I have done and look where its got me? Yet still I can not seem to let go of whatever it is that holds me. That a resilient part of myself is stored somewhere, safe from others and mostly - from me.

That for my own good this final piece of hope is waiting in hiding. And so, here it is. The moment of truth when I sit on the edge of it all - waiting for something that I think is hiding, if its there at all. Faced with this book of my past ever haunting. All this pain in my heart and my soul - almost broken.

If these stars do align will there even be anything left to be awoken?

Last edited by Smores; 05-24-2013 at 04:00 PM..

 


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