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Literature Text
I wish I knew how to dream of falling.
To feel the terror, the rush of air and adrenaline.
I wish I could wake up
and everything would be all right.
Sit up in bed, lie back, stare at the ceiling
thinking "It's over now."
"Everything's going to be all right."
Nothing's right any more.
Things fall apart, the center cannot hold
and I don't know how to put it back together.
I don't know how to put myself back together.
I think that's what they say is irony;
For so long I was the catcher in the rye
and maybe I still am, the one who holds friendships together
holds people together
holds lives together
and eases the pain.
Why is it that the ones who try the hardest to help with the hurting are always the worst hurt of all?
Chalk it up to the unfairness of the world.
I don't know what I deserve.
I just wish there was someone who could help me.
So far no one can.
To feel the terror, the rush of air and adrenaline.
I wish I could wake up
and everything would be all right.
Sit up in bed, lie back, stare at the ceiling
thinking "It's over now."
"Everything's going to be all right."
Nothing's right any more.
Things fall apart, the center cannot hold
and I don't know how to put it back together.
I don't know how to put myself back together.
I think that's what they say is irony;
For so long I was the catcher in the rye
and maybe I still am, the one who holds friendships together
holds people together
holds lives together
and eases the pain.
Why is it that the ones who try the hardest to help with the hurting are always the worst hurt of all?
Chalk it up to the unfairness of the world.
I don't know what I deserve.
I just wish there was someone who could help me.
So far no one can.
I haven't been doing anything of late, just lying around, gaming to feel less empty. My mother hates that. I didn't listen, she didn't understand, and so now I'm just gone. I don't know when I plan to go back.
© 2012 - 2024 Shadebreeze
Comments2
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I know what u mean, I think I do, I guess I felt that too, I still feel it sometimes, I know what is to be weird in a land of normal weirds, I know what is to get used to the usual things and want to scape and don't find exits, and see the world the same that all the days but different and don't know how to explain that, and don't feel like wanting to understand that, and just try to fill out the emptyness with no ideas and playing, or alcohol or casinos, or sex or drugs, or nothing or art. Man you are not alone, even if you can't see anyone next to you encouraging your soul, you are not alone.
(nice poem)
(nice poem)