Forlorn Dreams
Sometimes.... I just wonder why I am here, what is my purpose, except for taking in other's pain, and helping them pass along. Why must that be my burden? How come I must help people, and yet I can't help myself? I'm in forlorn despair, and no hope of escaping. I'm trapped in a life, of which I don't wish to have, for anyone else's would seem inevitable bliss. I may seem so selfish to think that, but what more can I do but hope? What more can I do than dream?
'You light up the way for me in the darkness of light'
I thought I've had that several times, but it nevers seems true. No one is to shed their light upon my darkest night, and it seems like no one would care to do so. I seem like I'm so ungratedul, and I'm a b*****d to boot. I seem heartless, with a hint of sadness in my eyes. I cry myself to sleep, and hope for a better day, but it never comes. My depression hurts, but not as much as the scorn from loved ones.
I never had a childhood, I was left inside my shell. I keep people away, for fear of contact is worse than that of death. I bottle up everything I feel, never to let it go, but to let it simmer in the back of my mind. I'm not lazy, and I'm not different on purpose, I turned out this way from no one ever trying to get close, I stayed inside and read book, and did what I called 'fun'. Neglect leads to being alone, lonliness leads to inteligence, and that inteligence leads to more neglect. I went out of my way to make damn sure they were proud, they seemed to be, but i could see through them, through their fake smilies, and congratulations. Maybe I just wasn't enough, maybe I just arrived to late. Now instead of living this life for myself, I live it for others. I've had the chance to kill myself, ever so many times, but I never did, I stay alive for others, that's the only reason. I think about if I kill myself, how they would react. They say they could never live without me... but is that true? I'm loved for my joy, so that means I've finally perfected my act? no one ever noticed that I had depression, even from the beginning, when I was 6. I never showed the signs, I never cut, and I always seemed happy.... but the truth is, i wasn't.
I didn't ask to be the way I am, but I just so happen to be that way, and it's not my fault. I wish I could change, I wish I didn't have to bear the emotions of others, and watch them be so happy, while I slowly and painfully die on the inside.
I am thy bearer of emotions, I am thy salvation. I shall take thee emotions, and hide them, for none to see.
Sometimes.... I just wonder why I am here, what is my purpose, except for taking in other's pain, and helping them pass along. Why must that be my burden? How come I must help people, and yet I can't help myself? I'm in forlorn despair, and no hope of escaping. I'm trapped in a life, of which I don't wish to have, for anyone else's would seem inevitable bliss. I may seem so selfish to think that, but what more can I do but hope? What more can I do than dream?
'You light up the way for me in the darkness of light'
I thought I've had that several times, but it nevers seems true. No one is to shed their light upon my darkest night, and it seems like no one would care to do so. I seem like I'm so ungratedul, and I'm a b*****d to boot. I seem heartless, with a hint of sadness in my eyes. I cry myself to sleep, and hope for a better day, but it never comes. My depression hurts, but not as much as the scorn from loved ones.
I never had a childhood, I was left inside my shell. I keep people away, for fear of contact is worse than that of death. I bottle up everything I feel, never to let it go, but to let it simmer in the back of my mind. I'm not lazy, and I'm not different on purpose, I turned out this way from no one ever trying to get close, I stayed inside and read book, and did what I called 'fun'. Neglect leads to being alone, lonliness leads to inteligence, and that inteligence leads to more neglect. I went out of my way to make damn sure they were proud, they seemed to be, but i could see through them, through their fake smilies, and congratulations. Maybe I just wasn't enough, maybe I just arrived to late. Now instead of living this life for myself, I live it for others. I've had the chance to kill myself, ever so many times, but I never did, I stay alive for others, that's the only reason. I think about if I kill myself, how they would react. They say they could never live without me... but is that true? I'm loved for my joy, so that means I've finally perfected my act? no one ever noticed that I had depression, even from the beginning, when I was 6. I never showed the signs, I never cut, and I always seemed happy.... but the truth is, i wasn't.
I didn't ask to be the way I am, but I just so happen to be that way, and it's not my fault. I wish I could change, I wish I didn't have to bear the emotions of others, and watch them be so happy, while I slowly and painfully die on the inside.
I am thy bearer of emotions, I am thy salvation. I shall take thee emotions, and hide them, for none to see.
