Please.
My ears scream
and my throat bleeds for you!
Stop it! Please.
One simple request I ask you
to fulfill.
You’ve never fulfilled
anything you’ve promised
before.
So I ask you tonight,
please just STOP. PLEASE.
My ears bleed
and my throat screams for this pain!
PLEASE, on my knees I’m
begging.
STOP!
There is no escape. There are no doors, no windows, no souls.
It seems like there are strobes everywhere shining so bright it’s almost uneasy.
I’m stuck in this white room.
I open my mouth and scream so hard but I can’t hear anything.
I feel hopeless. I am lost. I feel broken.
I’m trapped, forever.
I’m stuck in this white room.
And even though I’m curled up in the corner,
I feel like I’m falling a million miles per hour in a downward spiral.
I’m stuck in this white room for eternity.
Here in the darkness, in the dead of the night, the walls around me personify and they whisper to me.
My monsters creep up from underneath and crawl under my skin. They constrict like a wreath of sorrow. They crawl into my brain and infect my eyes.
Here in the darkness, in the dead of the night, the walls around me personify and they SCREAM at me.
My monsters dangle these lies in front of me that I’m not strong enough to despise.
They disguise the distractions that deny my worth.
I try to be wise, but the monsters try to compromise with me and I always chose the unwise way and am rewarded with the prize of self-hate.
And everybody tries to get free from the monsters and they usually rise above.
But I’m still stuck here on temporary highs, clinging to my monsters tight while they incise my heart.
When I was a little girl, I always passed the day outside.
I pretended I was a princess because in my fantasy world, love was real and hope was real.
I would stay out there and hide. They always told me they loved me, but they lied.
The day I found out the truth was the day that girl died.
I tucked my feelings aside and always lied about my insides. In who was I supposed to confide?
So it turned into WHAT I had to confide in instead of WHO. And when you get into that obscene scene, everything seems to collide and you have to decide everything in a flash second.
But most of the time I relied on my monsters to make my decisions with pride.
Everyday I had to push aside the tide of feelings rising up. The last time I was cried was the day that little girl died.
Because every time I feel the tears rising and that lump coming up in my throat, I cling alongside to my monsters and hide.
Things used to be in vibrant colors, warm colors. But now everything is gray and black.
I try to track back to how I got so out of whack but every time I find myself with an answer and hope, the monsters come and smack me and bring me back to the dark.
Then I fall back into this never-ending anxiety attack.
And a while back, while I was running from the monsters, my mustard seed fell out of my hand and out of sight.
That’s the day that I decided I lost the fight.
And ever since that girl died, I’ve never been quite alright.
The monsters have never been contrite. They take a delight in hiding me from the light.
Every time I try to get away from them, they creep up in the dead of the night and ignite something disturbing in my brain, and that’s when the bad thoughts take flight.
And every time this happens a kind of blight happens to my might and I lose every fight.
But every now and then a kind of hope comes alive in my being and it excites me. And I sit tight and upright while I try to listen for His voice.
I wait for a moment that I can rejoice in. But I never seem to find his voice or that moment of rejoice.
I guess that it’s my choice to live like this. To live in remiss. I try some times to reminisce back to the days of bliss but all I seem to find is a dark abyss of loneliness.
Am I just missing something? Or should I just dismiss what’s left of my hope.
I want to be whole. I want to find my soul.
“HELLO!? IS THERE EVEN A HEART IN THERE?!”
How could one without a heart possibly become whole?
The monsters have been distracting me and have been getting me to console in the control.
But once I can finally break free for a moment or two, I figure out that I have to press onward towards the goal that Christ has called me to!
I figure out that I have to step up and take back what the monsters stole!
So I’ll keep my mind on a patrol so that I don’t fall back down that rabbit whole.
And I can feel that my gray soul is turning back to warm colors.
I’m not saying I’m whole and well, I’m not saying I’m happy,
But I’m saying that I refuse to dwell in depression and not impel.
So I will say farewell to this hell one day soon, an when that day comes and I begin to excel,
The little girl that died will come back alive.
The little girl that is now alive will survive the evil that the monsters contrive.
And the little girl that is now alive will revive all her lost hope and learn to strive on the love of her Father.
Disgusting, filthy mask, isn’t it?
If she ever took it off for you, all that filth would pour out until nothing was left.
You really don’t want to see it.
She decided that she’s not letting anybody in anymore.
The core of her heart has rotted down from years ago.
She’ll smile and say “Good! You?”,
not letting anybody in. Nobody is the only exception.
Her story ends there.
Ups and downs
Highs and lows
Never letting her true colors show
Take off that mask, nice and slow
Vibrant yellows, greens, and pinks
For the times when she thinks happy
Moderate teals, oranges, and silver
For the times when she is lost
Dark blues, navy, and red
For the times when she wants to be dead
