Falling Aimlessly

confused

suicidal

LIVING

i dont know anymore. things get good and then fall aimlessly into nothing. so i wrote a poem..

there is a woman wearing my clothes and my hair, smell, and my skin – but it isnt me..

sin is like ink, it bleeds into a person – colouring, making you someone other than you used to be. try as much as you want, you just cannot get yourself back..

words can’t pull me back from the edge – neither can daylight

this isnt something to get over. its an atmosphere i need to learn to breathe – take it into my lungs with every gasp as if im holding onto the dearness of my life..

i wonder who this person is going through the motions of my life.

i want to take her hand.

and then, i want to push her

hard

off a cliff.

2 hours to go.