River Beneath

Flow along my skin warm, thick, free flowing,

Like emotions released through the blade,

Escaped from my soul, freed from within,

Painful memory, hurt so many once forbade.

I can't bear to feel anymore,

I don't want to wake again,

I want to be with them once more,

So little of them now remain.

Like many rivers of tears flowing from the heart,

It never is of the proper depth to end,

Only there to release the pain from being apart,

Release emotion by loved ones lost have bent.

To cry is too painful,

To laugh is not enough,

To live the life of the remorseful,

To be the woman hidden behind a cloth.

So like my eyes it is weeping sorrowful, ineffective,

No substance full of pain, as shallow was the life I lead,

Pushed on by the loss, the pain, the lack of perspective,

Seeking the depth for the end, the ending of life instead.

It is only but a cut,

One, two, maybe three,

It is small but

One day, one will set me free......

Sitting By The WaterFalls

Mind wandering around like the waterfalls,

Ears deafened by the total silence,

Crying for the birds, praying for their calls,

Standing here, I lose patience.

Those skies of blue now sadly turned grey,

My eyes yearn for the brightness of the sun,

I find myself standing in this here, where I can not stay,

Oh if those mistakes could suddenly come undone......

Tears running on my face like a wild forest,

My heart broken, I cry for the lost feelings, for my fear,

Fallen in the rivers of regret, I try my very best

Not to drown, in the waters of sadness so clear.

It take ever so little to reach the bottom,

Yet so long to kick myself back up,

Held by my selfish past's phantom,

I wish to wake my happy heart up.....

The water is cold, my mind is on fire,

My heart is dead it is for sale,

It is the strong at heart that I admire,

While I sit and watch the love I have grow pale.....

So I sit watching the waterfalls of my day,

Hoping to keep my head above water,

Admiring the river of disappointment go on it's way,

Hoping the currents do not bring them back later.

Under pressure

Life takes a hell bent pleasure in torturing me... on and on....
No matter how much I weather, it's throwing bad at me,
Like it's going out of fashion.....
I have never felt so tired, not after having a baby, not after
trying hard to study for exams day in and day out....
I've never felt so angry, to see people moan and complain when a bit of appreciation
would show them, they don't have it that hard....
I'm on the floor at the lowest of all my low points,
I don't know how long I can take this, how many times I will lose it
and finally do something wrong.... if it's the price of being strong, then I no longer want it....

It's 33 yrs of fighting for happiness... it's not fine, it's not admirable either...
It's stupid, it's just being hell bent on being hurt....
But the cowardice and selfishness of life always takes over....
If I lost the kids... that'd be all I'd need to end it all....
If they were gone, I'd get a respite, 6 ft under, no more noise, no more pain....
They're all I have left of family, the only ones from a huge family.....
The rest either passed away or just no longer recognising me as family....
Sleeping on my quilt in the living room, forcing a smile, listening to the pain of others....
I feel out of place, here, there, in my home, outside.... I don't belong anywhere, I am no one!
I'm merely existing, in the hope that they'll have a better life, hoping I can have one too....

But who am I to kid myself? 33 yrs! Of watching people come and go, leaving me behind.
No matter how it hurts, I go on, no matter how alone I feel, I try to show I've moved on.....
Each time I say my name I remember him, my dad, gone from me forever,
I remember that I no longer am part of a family that was everything to me...
Each time I'm on Thoughts, I remember when I was alone, I find I'm not feeling much differently most times,
Each time I'm here it's a mistake I made lingering in my mind... tearing all confidence.....
I feel so out of place, so close to expiry.... oh but even if I think endings... how many more cuts on one arm can one inflict on herself before becoming a freak of nature?
Knowing I'll never have the strength to cut deep enough for death, just enough for pain....
The only left to remind me I'm human and as such I must keep on.... living on whatever small hope I can feed on.....
Oh life is such a fucking joker eh?!