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I don’t want to any more,

All I ever get told,

Is to wait,

To be patient.

Always , everyday.

I don’t want to,

I don’t want to wait,

For you to come,

For you to be here,

For me to be there,

But once again,

We must wait.

All I do is wait,

Show my patience’s,

What is left on the outside.

The final layer,

I am wearing thin,

The more I wait,

Another layer gone,

Another level to reach,

To maintain,

What happens next?

I feel it coming soon.

Screaming I don’t want to wait.

Maybe I wont.

I refuse to wait,

My patience’s is gone,

But for you I show that,

It is still there. 

I wish this was continuous, but it isn’t these day by day things. This isn’t written when the world is bright and glorious. I guess still that means I should write more and more. When has my day ever been like that?  When have I ever saw this world through bright eyes. Waiting for the sunshine? This world isn’t meant to be great world. People die. If this world was great no one would be getting shot down the street. I am torn between a horrible night mare and reality. I don’t see people being happy. I see their down sides. The cold insides that no one see’s. The dark beings, within each person.  Being held in, by a simple thin string. They want free, why can’t they be free. Watching everyone, walk down the street. Each foot step slower than the other. Every cold breath. You can see them now. How slow people breathe. Waiting for something, to happen. Why can’t this world be a happy one?  Why is this world miserable. I can only see this. Their shadows leading them now. No one acts on their own anymore. It is all within those shadows. Each thought. I can see when they hurt. The pain caused with walking this world. Everyone secretly alone. We don’t have anyone anymore do we. We never did. Why now? Why would we have someone now? We are meant to be alone aren’t we?  This, this is my nightmare. Being able to see the pain. This causes me pain. Why do I need the pain? Don’t I have enough? Will I ever have enough. I guess I a better cold. The reality, this is a million times different. Split apart by what could be a port hole. A gateway.  One with a door, once I enter the nightmare. I don’t leave not until it is done. I no longer know when it will be done. I wish I did. Maybe then I would be able to see this true inner beauty. People explain. My nightmare built around the suffering, the cold fear of being alone. I want this to end tonight. I can only hope that maybe one day. I will fall asleep, and won’t wake up. That will end this for sure. That will stop the pain I feel. I will stop seeing everyone’s pain. I won’t see their suffering. Every  time I come in contact with someone’s skin, I feel the cold in them. The cold represents their pain. The pain that wont go away. Being miserable. Waking up each morning it’s the same thing. We all do the same thing, built like robots, in this world. Wake up, go to work and come home. The same breaks at work. We eat the same things on our breaks. We built a repetitive world. Is this what we have come to, not being able to function on our own? It is like we need a program for each new thing we do. We can’t do it until we need a program. I want this to end. I wait for the moment, my computer crashes, not being able to wake up. Gone for good, every memory, every file. Just then being miserable will come to an end for good.

In order for us not to walk in a world like this we need more change than what we want to give up. We need to break off our schedules. And think for our selves. Maybe just then, everyone will be happy. And there wont be people killing each other in the middle of the streets. There wont be people wishing every night to not wake up. Maybe then I wont be wishing the same thing.  

How many times,

Does it take to wish ourselves away?

To walk the wrong road,

Before picking the right,

How long do we need?

To walk blind down the dark path,

To see the fears, to see the failure,

When do we stop?

Threatening our lives, and live on,

Will it be too late?

When we tell you, we are alone,

How many signs,

Will we have to give?

Before you realize this is the end.

Will you see?

That all we wanted,

Was something you refused?

When will you notice?

That this was all because of you,

That maybe just one thing was a mistake.

How many times,

Do you have to hear us cry?

To hear us scream at the voices.

Will you only have to hear it once?

The gun shot, you didn’t fear.

The silence you didn’t expect.

It’s our choice, we pick the path.

That you created.

We walk the maze,

That you created,

We create the exit.

The only control we have,

Will we survive?

 Will you hear our voices again? 

Sitting waiting for these moments to turn. A brush against the grass. Running away to a place She was once familiar with hiding in. The empty corn field where she ran every time she heard a fight. Why was she back today? It has been years, since the last time she was here. The last time she watched over the town. Sitting and hiding. Knowing no one could see her. She knew what it was. She was hurt. A big family, that she came from. The out cast of this family. She was different than the image set out by her mom. Her other siblings perfect. Every way shape and form. And then her what happened to her. She didn’t know. Why wasn’t she loved like the rest. Treated like her siblings. But instead ripped off. Told to do it her self. how often did she ask for help, or for anything in that matter. Never, She wouldn’t she didn’t dare to. To scare of rejection, She would never ask. Couldn’t dare to, risk getting hurt. She didn’t want to have anyone see her get let down. But This still didn’t explain what she was doing in the place she use to run away to. This wasn’t for old memories. Wasn’t to reminisce on everything that happened when she was younger was it. She had done something, One of those things she would never think of doing. She had asked for help, just this one time. To see if she could. To pick up her life. And her education. To make something out of her self. And not to be broke, living in the slums. She had a dream to be someone. To be good at some thing. She never let anyone put her down. But this one time. She did, asking for help, in returns to get a no. She didn’t know something could hit so hard. Giving up she gave up her dream,  no longer wanted to be someone. She knew she was stuck in the slums, the dirty beat up, grungy town she had always lived in, she was stuck here. Her life was set out for her. Destined to keep working the same dead end job to never have a life. It wasn’t her fault. Maybe if someone were to help her out she would in return would help them out in the long run. When she came back. But she met someone on her way to the field a wise lad. Who had asked her why she was down, why she was crying. He told her to put a smile on her face. Breaking down, and not thinking wouldn’t you tell someone, who came up to you and asked what was wrong. When they have a sweet innocent smile. Baby blue eyes full of passion. Would you not break down to them, if they looked like they could help. She told him, told him everything. About never asking for help, always feeling alone. Wanting to run away, wanting to be someone, and just this once asking for help and the heart break that comes with it. His soft hand, lightly on her shoulder, his eyes as innocent as can be, sounding like he knew this position. Maybe he did, Maybe he didn’t. That piece of advice the one that you know helps. In any position there is always and one bit. This time, this bit of advice. Being don’t think about it, don’t worry. The most successful one’s do it alone. That hit her hard. Was it true, Could she do this. That, that was the reason for being in the field. Dwelling on this piece of advice. That could change her life. Would she chose to believe it, or would she just forget. You would have to ask her your self. In 5 years. See where she is. When she comes back home. With that giant smile everyone forgot about. She was nothing, that past 5 years. Well at least to you, you could have made a difference. But the impact you had on her back them. Turned her into who she is now. A successful young woman. With the love of her life. The lessons she learned. The rest of the family, the same people. And here she stands, the same person, the same little girl deep down, the passionate 5 year old. Standing here as a passionate young, successful person. She didn’t come for a reunion, but only to say thank you, for rejecting her ask for help. But here’s the nightmare, the problem gone wrong, Her thank you cold as ice. The stiff voice, broken. Your words still burn, scaring her every day. Hurting more and more each day. All we can do is ignore those burning words, right. And live the life, we wanted, and not the one that everyone say we are destined to live. We create our paths. But to make those paths the happy paths. We show support for others to hand us support. We are not someone, everyone else wants us to be. We are not this image that our family plays out for us. But instead, we are our own person. We make our own choices, We make out own paths. Therefor We Are Who We Are…

My eyes wont close at night. Not because I’m not tired. But because of other reasons. Any time I close my eyes. I see horrible things. Things that get to me. Taken to a night. I’m finally ready to fall asleep. Maybe I wont have trouble sleeping, I can close my eyes. And fall right to sleep. I just finish talking to someone, and put my laptop down beside me. I sleep with it open on nights like tonight. It’s that extra bit of light that helps me sleep some times. The light helps me keep my eyes closed. I am a terror at night. The nightmare willing to live, just one more night. It’s always one more night, let me live just one more night. I need to see you suffer. These nightmares thrive off my suffering. Closing my eyes, giving in, I can’t stay awake forever. I see the things, that no one sees. Walking down a long narrow hallway. It’s not a school there are no lockers. There’s nothing, a matter a fact there aren’t any doors. I have no clue where I am. Where the exit is. The only light dimmed in the distance, an exit sign. One of the signs that hang from them roof. Do I try to walk towards it. Or just stay still. If I walk towards it, this nightmare may end. But If I don’t move, I wont see the things I see next. It’s like that trigger to make time stand still. The one I hear many talk about. I don’t take the stand still. I want this thing to end. My fears, this nightmare that’s feeding off my exhaustion to go away. I let the nightmare go on, the exit sign getting further and further away. I’m not going to reach it. I’m walking, but not at my regular pace, at a slow pace. Like I’m waiting for something to just out and get me. But nothing ever does. Nothing will jump out. But there is always the next sight. The sight where I actually look at the wall. Take a glance at what’s on it. This time, there is writing. All over the walls, Right down to the exit sign. The writing is in what, looks like red spray paint. But in my nightmares, that’s to simple. Red spray paint. Yea right. There is a hook to this. I just haven’t caught it yet.  Reading the writing. It goes from, “I just want to be me” to “When will this end” to “I’m sorry” There is so much. What is the message be hind it? What am I missing here? What’s the key points? Why is this nightmare reoccurring? I look where I learned to look next. My hands, in every other nightmare I had my hands gave it away. Right away. Maybe this time it wont be different. Why is my hands red? Soaked? Dripping?  I know what it is. I don’t want to know. Why me? Why can’t this be someone Else’s nightmare? Why can’t it be yours? It is always mine. Always. Sick and twisted. The writing on the walls that isn’t spray paint. That isn’t red ink. There’s only one thing that would be that red, that fresh, and still running down the walls. What do you think it could be? Red food coloring? Red dye? Guess again/ It’s blood, it’s always blood. Always, every time I go to sleep. The dead bodies lined the hall. There must be 100 of them. I didn’t know I knew that many people. I could murder this many people. I don’t know what drove me to it. Why the message on the wall? All the writing? What is my nightmare trying to tell me. There is a thought running through my head. What the writing is about. Why it says what it does. It’s because I’m not perfect. Because I will never be how you want. I wont be your little angel. I am sorry, I couldn’t be who you want. Who you tried to raise. But your suffocating me. Killing me. Little pieces at a time. Enough, that soon you will know the effect. Eventually you will see what you did. That’s all that’s going through my mind. It explains enough. But why the dead bodies. But I never get all the answers for these. I wake up before I can have the answers. Alarm goes off. Time to get up. I hope that I will get the answers the next night. But I never do. It always restarts, always changes a little bit. This nightmare is never the same. But the message, the message has to be the same. 

I am sorry, I have been away. And I haven’t had the time to write. I just can’t seem to find the time, to sit and just write for awhile. It has been a long few weeks. Running and hiding. To being strong, keeping up emotion. Back to hiding. My emotions being toyed with more and more each and every second. Broken down to nothing. In less than a week. Love has become the master to this puppet game. Using me as it’s own fragile puppet waiting to get thrown around by a child, like I am their favorite toy. Making every move for me. Forcing me to babble like an idiot. Finding my ultimate weakness. Delicate in your eyes. You see it. I know you do. I am not strong around you. Trying to find my strengths. Is this love? I am the puppet of love, not knowing this feeling scares me. I have been put on string. These strings with your name written in them. Reminding me each and every time, I get put on them. Making do stupid things each and every time. Finding time to be there. What happened to me having other things to do. What happened to knowing who I was. I am no longer me. Will no longer be who I thought I was. Love has struck. To only bring change. Going through heart break all at the same time. Wondering if I am taking the right path. Hearing go for it constantly, I want to. Why aren’t I? Why can’t I force my self into it. I am to scared.

I am lost with who I was. I don’t know what has happened to me recently. I can’t keep my thoughts in the right spot. Everything is about love. What happened to me being alone. To running a world with no love. I thought I could do this my self. And still be happy. But I guess it always comes down to meeting that one person. Who will change all of that. From the moment you meet them. Wondering if they feel the same way. Is the cold hard part. The part that hurts the most. Wanting to know if you are wasting your time or not. Always feeling like your are wasting your time. It becomes to much. Over taking the rest of you. To hopefully come back from the pain. And hoping for the good. And staying positive that’s only the worst part. Heart breaking to the most part. I can’t live with this fear. I can’t live with being scared, of a simple yes or no. But it’s the fear of losing a friendship. Why can’t I risk that anymore. I use to always gambled the friendships, But now I refuse to.

Step one.
Stay in control,
Don’t get beat down,
Stay smiling.

Step two.
Smiles gone,
keep some balance,
Don’t get distant.

Step three.
She’s gone now,
We lost her,
She lost control,

Step four.
Please find her,
Make see the light,
Show her to smile.

Step five.
Take her somewhere,
Show her a good time,
Get her to smile.

Step six.
Make her smile bright,
She got hurt,
Teach her to love again.

Step seven.
She loves,
It’s not enough,
Teach her more.

Step eight.
She is in love,
Be there, Sit waiting,
You don’t know who she loves.

Step nine.
It’s you,
She loves you,
Don’t hurt her.

Step ten.
Make it work,
Your both happy,
There’s no problems.

She really loves you,
You taught her love,
You changed her world,
Keep her love safe.

Backbiting, disinformation.
The simple word of a lie,
falseness, dishonesty.
The meaning of life.
All has become a fiction,
This and that,
That and this.
A misleading lie,
Going no where,
Beaten up,
Beaten down.
Run now,
Or stay and fight.
I can’t decide anymore.
I want to run,
I want to fight.
Can I run and fight?
Is that possible

Who are you?

Where were you?

When I claimed my affection?

When I woke up in fear?

Never really telling you.

Hiding from reality.

Night after night.

Wanting to keep you safe.

Bringing you everything you want.

It’s a pandemic.

Embrasing me with every thought.

This is all a dream.

It must be, I would never tell you.

Running from my emotions.

Our friendship changing.

Around any corner.

Just give me one shot.

To show you I’m not bad.

Just one shot,

To show you who I am.

Please one shot.

To come out of my fear.

I know I will do this right.

If you give me one try.

I will make things right.