Back To Me

I want it all back: from the cold nights to the skipping heart beats. I want it back. I want my tears back—from when my kitten died to the countless times I have banged and bruised my head. I want my parents screaming at me because I am being mischievous, when I’m laughing on the inside because I have no intention of changing. I want my friends concerned about me. I want someone crying, begging god for me to be okay. I want it back. I want to cry over sad movies. I want to be afraid of dying. I want my hands to tremble, not from fear but from being emotional. I want to be upset over every day fights. I want to talk—freely. I want my veins to struggle to let my blood flow. I want my heart to have to work twice as hard to beat half as slow. I want it back. I want it all back. I want my innocence back. I want you back.

Struggle.

And sometimes you just want to give up because you are not making anything any better. Sometimes you just have to accept that you are not good enough… or do you?

I don’t get it. I can’t accept it. I want to fight. I need to fight.

I can’t live with myself knowing that I am not good enough. I know I am better than that, and no one should be able to tell me otherwise.

But then again, we give up. We give up on people, we give up on goals, and we give up on dreams.
Sometimes, we don’t have a choice, I know. Sometimes you don’t have time. Believe me I know.
But sometimes, I am afraid to give up. Wouldn’t it be so unfortunate if you figure out that you were so close to the finish line when you gave up?

I’d like to imagine that I am close to the finish line. I would be the worst person if I give up now.

No? Yes?

Regardless of the end result, don’t you think it is better to keep on fighting than giving up and sitting down all alone? Isn’t it better to at least have something to do for the rest of your life, even if it is just fighting with life, rather than having nothing to do and nothing to look forward to for as long as you live?

How truly miserable that life would be .

The Pain.

Do you think there comes a point where the pain just stops? Or is it never-ending?

Isn’t there a point when you no longer care because you know that it could not possibly hurt anymore? The pain is absolved and the fear is gone because there is nothing left of your soul to be ripped apart. When it happens you sit on the floor, your back to the door, and just stare at the wall. Somehow the emptiness is comforting then. You don’t want to stand up because you know exactly what is waiting for you on the other side of the door. Some people tell me that they see the darkness begin to rise from the floor. They can no longer fight off the darkness. Hence they welcome it inside them.

The light goes out, the soul extinguishes and the pain disappears.

Is that how the pain disappears?