My heart; an empty shell void of all emotion, all feeling. My hopes; shot down with every word, every day. My pain; long and everlasting, never to cease, never to rest. As I struggle, day to day, forcing the smile and the laughter, lying at night, the tears flowing freely, but never freely, I am always on guard – they might see.
I wish for release from the torture, from this seemingly screwed up life. But my heart, my hope, my pain – it all knows that eventually the happiness will rule out and dominate over the depression. But until then, I am left, wallowing in the darkness, the pain eating away at my heartstrings, at what little there is, till there is nothing. And soon it shall be as bleak and meaningless as everything else.
And everything else hopes for, longs for, needs to find a ray of light in this… black hole which appears to be my heart; the very same thing that is constantly pumping the blood, the same simple task over and over and over again. I can feel it, feeble though it may be. But what else can I feel? I feel nothing. Nothing except this burning desire to seek what is good. What is… so far out of reach? Is it? Is what I seek in life so hard to grasp at? Am I merely scratching the surface, or is there something I'm missing?
Is this as good as it gets? Am I meant to sit here and watch all the beautiful things in life pass me by? As everyone else walks by without recognition, as they are all perfect, above me, as society's mindless conforming zombies… I hate being like them. I despise being like them. They are fortunate, but what about those who are not? Where do they fit? Must they all always be thrown aside as though they don't exist, by the very same people whom society deems as perfect? But alas, they are not perfect, they are worse than we, because they choose to suffer, being ignorant to the world. We, I, have no choice.
All of them, who say things, promise things… break things. Such as a heart. My heart. Beating slowly, as though bored. Of course bored, tired of all the useless things that never get you anywhere. Of all the useless people who break their oaths and vows and promises and leave you behind in their wake. The heart wishes to feel excitement, to be free from the people who hold it in its prison. They shatter your heart who wished to feel the good, the wonderful. The very same heart who tried to seek and discover what else there could be; the one that hoped for peace, a solution to their pain.
Ironic isn't it, how the people that hurt you, are always the people you turn to for help? Only to be crushed once more, always once more. And then the promise, it will never happen again. But it does, oh does it ever. It's a never ending cycle of pain, of torment. Is it not strange how we seek solace, and yet we keep setting ourselves up for disappointment again and again?
Well I, make a vow now, sick and disgusted and full of hatred for this game of life. I, who sit here and cry thousands of tears that showcase my pain and my weakness. No one can see this weakness, for I choose to keep it hidden, it needs to be hidden. Away from all that is perfect. Away from the heartbreakers. But I don't need them. They don't care either way anyways. They say they do, they can sounds sincere, but when is it ever?
We long for comfort, for choices. To find the one who can strip you of your chains and your pain, and give your life meaning. But no, you can't trust a soul, any soul for they're all black, wishing to hurt you, and stomp on your spirit. Evil mindless cretins, all they want is to hurt you, and so they back you into your cage, never to let you out, for they hold the key. They key which is all things jovial, serene. They won't give it you, remember you can't trust them. Their favorite game is one of tricks. Leading you on, persuading you to have faith in them. But never again. Have faith in yourself. Only you can cut the ropes constricting your future. You don't need them.
I don't need them. And I will keep telling myself that. Maybe one day I will actually learn to believe it.