July 25, 2004

Buried Alive Inside Myself

write, edit. revise, erase. scribble, scribble, scrawl. aside from the simple fact that my parents decided to fuck one night, why am i here? is there really any point to it all? i was asked the other night if i felt better, am i happier to which the best and most honest answer i could give was "better than before". i question this word -- happiness -- and wonder what it is often. do i really want to be happy or is that just because it is expected of people? did i have it? did i lose it? will i find it? would i know i found it? does it matter?

what fills the void left by light
for my darkness is always there
chewing at the chains anchoring me

screams can not be heard
through my deafening silence
i'm buried alive inside myself

so lost... inside
i wish i could get out
but i don't think i ever will

it's not what you think. it's not what it seems.
i must be dreaming. it's only in my mind.
things all made sense at the time

we all live... we all die
that does not begin to justify
me... it's all about me

Posted by ac at July 25, 2004 11:20 PM

Comments

i've always felt that u like being buried.

Posted by: Enigma at July 27, 2004 04:14 PM