Such misery consumes me, never letting go. Sorrow ails my mending heart, binding me. Let’s bend the rules slightly just so I can breathe, This pounding headache confuses my vision. The dimming sky and the pouring rain, helps none to see. My fingers, they ache from clenching this fist but I’m so tired of living my life in constant despair. My heart attempts to beat once more, but fails. I am a failure. I fail when I try to see the sun through the darkened sky. I fail when I try to write what I feel--all emotions laid out for all to see. I can't write like you. No matter how hard I try. Piles upon piles of worthless paper with nothing but scribbles. I try to be honest with my emotions--but my audience lashes out at me. I'm a failure. They scream, "You're a failure." I can hear them though I'm deaf. I toss and turn in my empty bed and I can see them though I'm blind. And the tears sting the bruises around my eyes, where I rubbed and rubbed to see. Why can't I be like you? The crowds are pleased and applaud with pleasure. You sleep in silence in a paradoxical sleep. Oh, I plead with God--I bargain with my life. If only I could write like you. To express my feelings so I would not have to keep them bottled because ((unlike fine wine)) they do not taste better with time. And the emotions get bottled up until I can't breathe and my lungs struggle for air. And I try to carry myself away from the pain. But I let myself fall. Don't you ever fall? No, no of course not! You're perfect. I hope you know, I cry at night for you.
