Lucidity

This popped into my head while listening to The Fray. It's a bit dark, but then again most of my stuff is. Enjoy.

 It's not right to feel this way.

 

I slip through life an empty shell of a person.

The ghost of my soul longs to get away,

But my body hangs on to every breath.

 

I see people who are happy, and I envy them.

I see the lovers holding hands, and I envy them.

I see friends laughing over a meal, and I envy them, too.

But what's more, I hate them.

 

These people, they don't realize how lucky they are.

To live, to love, to befriend each other and go through life in bliss.

Ignorance, as they say, is exactly that.

 

You all moan about your little problems, but you don't see the big picture.

You're happy ninety percent of the time.  You're upset maybe five percent.

The rest of the time, you're neutral.

 

You've never felt the utter sadness of a soul, which drags you down.

It clutches with iron, rusted claws and literally keeps you from moving.

I'm tired, I'm weak.  It's hard for me to move most days.

But I do.  Because I have to.  If I stop moving, I'll die.

 

But none of you care.  You're too wrapped up in your own lives.

You play your games.

 

I'm not even a person anymore.

My emotions left me long ago.  All I feel now is the weight of a dead soul.

But you don't see it.  No, I'm a better actor than that.

All you see is the happy-go-lucky friend you've always known.  The first one to laugh, the last one to cry.  The one who's not afraid to speak his mind, to tell the truth.  He's the most honest person you know.

 

I'm your best friend, I'm your worst enemy.  I'm your mother, your father, your sister, your brother.  I'm the quarterback, the point-guard, the captain of the chess club.  I'm the librarian, the quiet person in the corner.  I'm the kid you make fun of.  I'm the class clown.  I'm the soldier in the desert, the politician in Washington.

 

I'm screaming out for help, but too vulnerable to let anyone see me this way.  I'm terrified.  I don't know how to reach out for help.

 

So help me before it's too late.

 

~Suicide

Author's Note

It was a constant flow, and wasn't edited. Just tell me what you think, how it made you feel, etc. I don't need any constructive critique, since it's not progressing past this site.

Reviews

[Cassiopia Summers]

Wow, this is great. I can feel the sadness of the character, his dark demeanor. I can feel his envy and his hate at how others live their lives. This is a great piece, I love dark pieces, and this is indeed dark. Great work. And I love the title.