I don't know what I'm doing

Another creation of depression. Written in the middle of the night. Another bad piece of just pure venting.

Hell I don't know what I'm doing 

But I sure know what I've done 

And I just can't live with it 

Running from my problems 

Hiding under rocks 

That are overturned by my mental illness 

Laying in bed all day 

Dreaming of the things I want and lost 

Waking up screaming at night 

Ready to fight 

Something that isn't there 

So I brush my long hair 

Letting a million strands fall out from grief 

How could someone have done this to me 

Given me depression and ptsd 

I hope they're guilty 

For killing a man 

For killing someone who tried their best

To lend a helping hand 

But ended up a mess 

That was what happened to me 

Now you know 

Reviews

[Sapientiam]

No one really knows what they're doing in life. We live everyday either thinking or not. I've always casted my mind to the future, wondering what each second will bring because I'm afraid of making a mistake that could terminate a moment that could have been beautiful. This is also the case for the past, where my soul often lingers, as well. Some, on the other hand, don't think. They act in ways that disregard themselves or others, such as the person you described in the poem. Humans ruin each other, hurt each other, inject into us pain and suffering and they don't seem to care. That is the nature of our world, but that is not only what the world is filled of. Such as life, there will be pain, but there will always be joy, the moments we desire. They are the fraction of our lives that makes living meaningful and if a person has to live their entire lives just trying to find peace and happiness, then so be it. It will be worth it in the end, that I can say. It's the hope of the beauty that lives underneath the filth that can keep us strong, if we want to believe in its existence. Once again, great job expressing your emotions!

(I also apologize for my rambling...!)