Life is honestly a struggle that’s too painful in my eyes.
I envy the dead some times.
I think the dead are lucky because I feel that their rested.
They’ve escaped the worry, the disappointments and most importantly the search for other people’s acceptance.
I sometimes feel I fall victim to myself, I let my own thoughts bring me down.
I don’t know how to express this but I know with such feelings I’m not alone.
At times in my room all by myself I just break down and cry, look to the heavens and angrily ask;
Then there’s just this inescapable feeling.
You know the feeling that’s always there to crush you when you feel the least bit down.
The feeling always whispering for you to give up trying like a little devil on your left shoulder.
You fight to smile, to see the brighter side of things, to keep hope but all this is brought tumbling down by just a small thought.
I hate myself for the way I feel at times.
And no matter how much I try I can’t get rid of the wormhole inside me sucking away all my happiness.
Leaving me with anger and a void that constantly gives me pain.
Good times do come around but they never last for long and the painful void is back again.