It Is What It Is

I don’t know how I am supposed to feel. I feel empty inside because it all seemed a lie. Believing that someone loves you then finding out that they don’t is an unjust feeling. I tried to love him. He always pulled away or pushed me away. The moment when humanity is overcome by jealousy is the moment it flies away. The whole time thinking “Nah it’ll pass, it is what it is” then someone shoves facts and reality in your face. Suddenly feeling trapped. Ten feet under screams yet people just keep throwing dirt on top of you. When it’s every man for himself that is when you’re gone. Never looking back because you know they see you as worm food. Every minute is an eternity that seems to last forever. When you know they see you as weak that’s when you know that you’re alone to fight your biggest war. It floods in over your head like a warm shower after a hard day’s work. Eventually it will become the thing that will kill you. You don’t want to let it go because it was the only thing that loved you. It knows that it’s controlling you. Then bam. It is gone just like a sneeze. You feel it coming then it’s gone the next second. Life goes on not even looking back at the destruction Mother Nature just left behind. Having all the evidence in the palms of your hands and letting it slip through the cracks. It’s a freshly cooked meal that’s going cold. You know what has happened but it’s all too late. Regret. Rage. Uncertainty fills your cavities. It rushes into your lungs. It floods over your heart. Destroying your mind is its objective. It’s your only friend. Yet it is stabbing you blindly hoping to hit the bullseye. Until it does, then what. Who is going to help you pick up the broken pieces of your broken life. The remains lefts shattered. Left as dust on a empty book shelf. Alone once again until a gentle breeze picks you up and blows you away. Floating to another galaxy. Lost in a new world. Too sick to compel. Your own thoughts shut out by the silver metal gates. Only one holds the key. His face unlocks it with each slight, soft gaze. Each thought strung out without dialogue. Only to leave you to paddle out of your own blood. Being picked away by flesh-eating creatures. You allow them to because your thoughts control all of you. Making all the decisions for every inch of your frail and distraught, taint little body. No longer having a purpose giving up is the easiest option. Always wondering “what’s the point”.  Rescue passing every two minutes but never seeing you. Even you don’t see yourself as real. Everything you worked for is gone in an instance. You allow the one person who “loved” you to ruin you. Not even caring for what is next to come. Life is just another word. You are constantly screaming for them. Still they turn up their volumes. You are a dog rolling over yearning for its stomach to be scratched only to be kicked by its master. You are no longer of value. Just another piece of trash. Feeling alone. Few understand. Reality strikes out of nowhere. It consumes you until you breakdown and die. Because trying takes energy and energy is for people with a purpose. Having no purpose is all you are now good for. You are a light waiting to go out. A mailbox waiting for a game of unruly teens. No one really is your friend. Only possible through time. Wanting to jump. Just for a chance. A constant cry is all you have to offer. A shot to the chest is your only sign. Fighting to be heard. Pounds of dirt fill over you. You taste the dirt. They only see you as the dirt. Finally realization hits. Why are you still here. A daunt little body in a dauntless world. You are an outcast. He used you and got what he wanted. He made you feel good to give him your goods. How stupid are you.  Blinded by lust. Don’t call it love. Love is for happy people. Happy people are liars. Jokes to the human race. I am nothing but dirt. Now twenty feet under your laughs. A joke. Never really wanted. Who am I to you. Useless. Stupid. Ugly. Nobody important. I’m not depressed. I just see the truth nobody cared enough to tell me. I’m not going to be blinded anymore. I try to get out of my hole yet your foot won’t allow me to. Once again I’m stuck under you. I know I’m useless. You can only kick a dog so much before it runs away. I’m now left to run away. I don’t want to become a murderer to my thought, my feelings, or my body. I know that I can’t because you stole all of those from me. Would it just be easier gone. No one would notice would they. I know the truth I’m not blind anymore. I’m just tired of being kicked. Too many unseen bruises. I’m cut all over yet perfect to the naked eye. You won’t come close to me too afraid to catch my disease of loneliness and stupidity. I want people to know what it feels like to be me. They call me ‘dramatic’ and ‘liar’. Come walk in my knock-offs because I bet you won’t be able to walk out the door. It’s not easy. I have no reason to lie. Constantly being fed facts and truths. I feel obliterated. No one even tries to like me. I’m just a joke. Never amounting to anything important. So worthless. I could become a multi- millionaire just by selling all the knives I pull out of my back each day. Only feeling good knowing that my life does come to an end. Never useful. I’m too easy. Just a whore.  People know that and they come to me to get something. I’m so stupid. Being donned as weak everyday digs really deep. Deeper than the knives. Every person carving their name into my back not even caring of the chance they might get caught. Waiting for death because people swear it’s my only friend. So I guess I’ll wait. Just a menace to society. I dare you to try on my shoes. Your feet will be so small due to all your minute problems. Knowing you’re being controlled and not caring because if you do then people will only knock you down and eventually will attempt to kill your very existence. You’re always left to pick up your bones because people pick every good thing off of your putrid body. I’m just a ball of confetti constantly being thrown at people but never wanting to be kept. Being swept away by people’s thoughts about who I am or who they think I am. I will never just be able to be me. The names of my ‘owners’ sketched into my back, my legs, and my arms because too many kicks have found their way to me. What is it like to be happy. For more than a minute. Society writes my definition yet I am still just a script. All I want is to be free but I can’t. I don’t know how to be free. All I need is guidance and someone who cares. But that is impossible because no one actually cares. I’m fighting to swim but you’ve tied me down. You can’t let me be free. Someone please help me. I can’t even like you. I’m too afraid to be used again. I have never been wanted. Do you know that it hurts. Waiting to be loved and everyone you know turning their backs on you. I can’t remember how to swim. Yet everyone still pours my own blood over me. I’m killing myself without meaning to. I am no longer pretty. I’m only a bad memory. A nightmare. I wait alone for the next piercing pain. I know it’s coming because I’m a ragdoll for everyone to kick and throw around. I’m bleeding on the inside. I’m a dead soul that’s attempting to escape. I will never be free. I am constantly being kicked yet no one sees how much pain I am in. I need help. I can no longer do this on my own yet no one seems to care. I’m drifting away someone catch me.

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