February 22, 2010
This isn’t the kind of pain that time will heal,
or Advil will numb.
How much more rest do I need,
until I stop living life in a daze?
I’m not okay,
And I’m not okay with not being okay.
I’m so tired of feeling alone,
In a place where so many faces are so familiar.
Picking myself up from rock bottom is useless,
When I know I will be here again.
Silence is painful,
When you only want to scream for help.
Eyes and tears reveal my lost hope,
But nobody bothers to notice.
Escape has become my necessity,
Consuming my ever thought.
February 20, 2010
We had to think of an object that was symbolic of us. Here’s what I came up with:
After my list was made, I realized they all had one thing in common: They are each a raw item that can be used to create absolutely anything. An infinite amount of possibilities from a single object and a single mind.
Maybe that’s my Dharma: To create.