Carry on

Everyone goes through something...

You force yourself to get up for the morning

Hoping for a good day

Wanting to become a better person

After a few words of encouragement 

You recognize the pleasant

but somewhat unfamiliar feeling 

Of Happiness

You savor it

Knowing it won't last long

The moment you walk through those familiar doors

You automatically transform into that fake,

shiny and perfect person you feel forced to be

You'll have to deal with fake friends and trash talkers

and waste

all of your time, strength, energy and patience

on subjects and walking

You finish your day exhausted

Left with the very little amount

of precious strength you managed to save

You turn out your lights 

and sink into a sea of darkness

peaceful at first 

But suddenly turns sour

as you fully realize

how tired you really are

Tired

of being broken

Tired

of being lied to

Tired of being hurt, stepped on and hated

Tired

of life

You slowly back into

that corner of your mind you've spent countless hours in

and glance around the room

As every object in sight

fades into nothing but a sketchy outline

Then the world falls silent

as if anticipating your next move

The only sound you are able to hear

is not made by a mortal 

It's a voice

one you may consider supernatural

Cunning,

eerie,

and tremendously persuasive

effortlessly turning echoes

of comforting words 

into horrible lies

bent on destruction

but you'll believe them anyway

and soon feel the sting

of fresh wounds

and the warmth

of crimson blood trickling over your skin

as your body stops trembling from rage

and your mind floods

with guilt

You slip on something to hide your pain

and with every sting the cloth delivers 

you scold yourself

for giving in

your eyes fill with tears you're too weak to cry

In an attempt to save what's left of your sanity 

You sacrifice the rest of your energy

to care for yourself

you bury yourself in your bedsheets

lying awake,

overthinking

regretting everything

soon you drift off,

no dreams,

no visions

just quiet darkness

you savor yet another thing that wont last

It will end

and you'll hear someone waking you again

you'll rise

feeling brave

because you know

the cycle repeats

viciously,

efficiently

and endlessly.

Reviews

[John the Baptist]

A frank but grim piece here. I understand mutilation somehow releases stress. I hope you find a way to move past this.

[^-^ Jazi ^-^]

Hey, yeah this is a poem about something i went through my sophomore year in highschool, im much better now ! thanks for reviewing it really means alot to me because it enables me to im;prove my writing and i love hearing others opinion! :)