Sunday, April 26, 2015

I know I'm dramatic, it's part of my charm. I am having a hard night.

Alone. I have never felt so alone.
Drama queen, not good enough:
it feels like high school
Maybe it’s all in my head,
But the feelings are here.
Drink to forget,
never forget
that I will never be:
I will never be their child.
Cliché as hell.
True enough,
but what else can I say?
The bottle is empty,
I suppose I need to move on;
move on to what?
Lonely nights,
wine and cigarettes?
Depression?
I hate the word,
because this is not it.
This is worse.
standing alone in a room of light
but yet
I see nothing.
Empty is the stage:
A soliloquy with no end.
Roaming through the blinding lights,
I am alone.
God.
Where is He now?
The one I love,
my husband if he would only say yes.
But I am still alone;
my fears are petty.
But they are all I have.
Fear can lead to hope.
If I could only escape
the hurt of truth and failure
Is this pride?
Intruding the humility that could save my soul?
Probably.
And so continues the cycle:
Drama.
not good enough.
alone.
fearful.
Okay.



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