Bones decayed
Muscle & skin flayed

Near decade long agony endured
Endless wait for no remedy procured

Persons laugh and gibe
Hellions unable to repent or apologize

Lovers leave or never give a chance
"Meeting you was an unfortunate circumstance"

21 years of life lived
Nothing but difficult and destructive

My soul is wavering on my form. Fit to boil.
This soul simmering, on leaf silhouted sun's heat.
A past night's sleep that caught an errant plight amongst twilight's cloud topped 'delight'.
A dream to be clear, the one's to wake up, as told at beginning.
I dont quite translate well what it is I am trying to say, without my painted words. But I will try to do so without a sense of denying dignity.
I feel this seed planted in self-denial that I question who planted, but know who watered.
I am relieved from you.
I may have your voice in my head that I call my dreaded disease.
But I am relieved from you.
You fueled all of my seeds, the passion grew anew from you.
You mused me.
Amusing to say now, at the least, that you still had to abuse me through the
wicked lines I'd find, that you'd only
deny,
all in my stifled cries, painful times, wicked loaded lies, and all of accord to your  so  called, caring crimes.
Do not worry too much.
The amount of pain is nothing new. And nothing short.
You just, if I may: childlishly, scratch at the wavering clouds of my soul,
wilting away the pedals of the light of the sun that the steam catches in golden brilliance watching delightfully as it falls and disintegrates in a puff plume to dust.
My reality falters to a closer gross sum.
Each fleck of life you pick off me fills my seeds with even more anguish.
I am at peace.
Calm.
I know your process all too well.
I refuse to look.

To feel
All and intensely
To care
Fully and endlessly

Is it weak?
Or is a strength?

Confusion fogging my mind,
I struggle to accept my empathy
For people
For situations
Not relevant to my own
But relevant enough
To consume me
In second hand grief

I’m drowning
Yet emerging

Can I handle these emotions
And still support those in need?

It’s a question I constantly ponder.
With another outbreak,
It’s a question I need to answer.

Pour a little bit.
Drink a little more.
Die a little slower
Feel a little less.

Imagine if nobody felt pain?
Would any of us be left sane?
Why do I say so?
Because once upon a time,
There lived a stranger.
In order to quench his thirst,
He drank boiling water.
And to quench his hunger,
He lusciously chewed his mouth.
Once upon another time,
A little girl lived in a famine.
The night-snake came and bit her.
But unlike you, she didn't throb.
And deemed that he was simply playing
Both of those people plunged into pain.
Yet, they never felt pain.
Instead, they unknowingly became inhumane.
So thank God for having a conscious brain.