Ramblings of a Bad Night

Oh, I’m not sure how to say all the things I want to say. How screwed up my life is. How I’ve been lead astray. I want my life back. Don’t know how I’ll ever find power to get back to what I used to be. But its not like I can. And its not like he can. Convince my heart it’ll be ok. And I’ve learned the struggle. Just might not be what its worth. So I’ll end it. I’ve screwed up for the last time on this earth.
One last screw up. One final huge mistake. No one knowing. How hard the battle’s been. Can you imagine? What it feels like to be alive? Once again so happy. No, I’m never coming back. I need some escape from the hell that I create. This is my answer. This is my last relief. I just want what I can’t have and I have what I can’t want. A happy life is waiting for me, somewhere but not here.

I have never truly, no, I’ve never been myself. Please forgive me. I just want to feel again. I am so tired. Of a life that means nothing. I am giving up on a life that never counted. I wish I could start again, but in this life I will never have that chance. Never truly smiling, never flying high again. Adrenaline rush, nicotine fits. Can you see the way this kills? Can you see that I am gone? My head is spining and the faces blur, the reasons I was alive seem to just refer to another failure, another screw up. Another time when I could smile from deep within my soul. The very essence of why I was alive has finally flickered its last flame and snuffed itself out. Like a candle burned at both ends I’m going to just burst.

If I could have been the one who was strong and who ended this nightmare, maybe I won’t be standing here on the edge of time screaming. I fell for a thousand years into the arms of a wounded melody. Maybe someday I’ll be able to stand on my own and laugh at the double-edged knife pointed at my throat. The hand that holds it is yours. A black skeleton of what was once there. Stars rush above, once brilliantly alive, now cold and dead. I am a star, once brilliantly alive, now cold and dead. You think you see a light in me, a chance to be useful. But all I am is a dead light, a cold reminder of past triumphs.