The problem. I am the problem
Everything wrong comes from me
Nobody cares what I see as truth
None of it matters any who
I’m just another face in the crowd
Nothing special, not renowned
Never to become anything of worth
Cursed to walk the earth in misery for eternity
So easy are the old ways
To slip back to pains and drains
So familiar to my hand that it just might slip through a vein or three
The record in my head plays over and over again about how everything’s wrong
Everything’s gone
And how the world would move along without me here
I can’t focus I can’t sleep
I can’t dream I can’t eat
I can’t stand to live another day
Knowing exactly the way tomorrow goes
With pills and hopes of a better future
When really I don’t believe it
Half a decade I’ve spent
Trying to amend the hand I’ve been sent
Twice deciding to fold
With the days getting longer
And my pain growing larger
The third attempt to end my life
Seems all to close for comfort.
So what is the problem with me
What is the world the way I see?
Laconically,
 Misery.
Anguishing.
Disparity.
Narcissistic.
Empathetic.
Senseless.
Sadness.
4 comments
Whoa can i hav this wat do you want for it?
<3
I liked your poem lost child.
If I had no guide dog,,
I’d commit suicide.
If my doctors weren’t helping me get through physical pain,
I’d commit suicide.
If I wasn’t living where I am now,
I’d commit suicide,
I’d have done it a long time ago quite happily and possibly might have regretted it…
But by then it’d have been too late!
I’m only here today because of this site,,
And my guide dog,
And my doctors,,
And because I’m living in a different town, in a different state of the country.