Battered Down
5:18 PM
The purpose of life. At least mine seems like shifting sand.
I reach to grab a handful and everything slips away again. In the roaring wind, inability to see nor hear well. Everywhere I lay eyes, a desert. Voices coming from all directions.
"You are not good enough"
Why would I tell myself such horrendous things?
In the heat, I see mirages from the past. Hurtful and emotionally charged memories flooding. Away I run from them. A peek back here and there until I realize that I have arrived at the cliff of no-return. Please give me a break, I beg. A choking feeling. Claustrophobic sensation. Is that all there is to life? To be sucked dry by this inner vortex until the end of time? I have perhaps finally arrived at hell itself.
I reach to grab a handful and everything slips away again. In the roaring wind, inability to see nor hear well. Everywhere I lay eyes, a desert. Voices coming from all directions.
"You are not good enough"
Locked inside my own mind.
"Do something already"
Leave me alone.
"Just die"Why would I tell myself such horrendous things?
In the heat, I see mirages from the past. Hurtful and emotionally charged memories flooding. Away I run from them. A peek back here and there until I realize that I have arrived at the cliff of no-return. Please give me a break, I beg. A choking feeling. Claustrophobic sensation. Is that all there is to life? To be sucked dry by this inner vortex until the end of time? I have perhaps finally arrived at hell itself.
Who will rescue me from myself? Whose hand will reach out to me? eStrength.
