I’ve come to believe in a lot of things. Happiness seems to feel farther than it seems. I’ve realized Spirituality has become a place of acceptance but religiosity has lost its focus. It’s evident that things must change, but maybe I’m the one who needs to change. I contemplate thoughts in my head. Am I alive or am I dead? I’m not quite sure but once more I find myself staring at multiple doors or maybe I’m just caught up in being lifeless lying on the floor.
I’m in love with the idea of love but the love that I love is a love that’s once loved. Perfection is hard to find and it’s so divine but it’s found when people actually have a spine and I’ve seemed to have lost mine. I chase answers to my questions and I question the very questions that I have: only to find a place where I realize what I once had. I’ve walked so far down a road and I’m caught up in the fascination of these contemplations and I can’t seem to find the right fixation.
Divide the lines and call it suicide because in the Bible Belt we are all fed immense lies. When we die we could all fry. Well, my death will be the rest of an imperfect man that has so much blood on his hands and a broken heart big enough to bind the stars. How far is too far and do I even meet up with par? I can’t seem to find all the answers and depression swallows me like a pill and I can’t seem to understand the ways that I feel. I would kill to know what I feel so that I can peel back my skin to show what’s really underneath my ever so changing mind. I’m so far behind and I’m sinking with a millstone around my neck beneath the bottom of the ocean. I’m gouging out my eyes and cutting off my hands so that I can feel once again. Give me oxygen so that when you light a flame I will be consumed to never come back again. On my knees I find the serenity to finally not feel the way that I seem to be.