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Untitled 10/2/14

I wish I could go back to the beginning. Knowing what I know now, I’m not sure I’d do it all again the same.
It’s so easy for the hurt to fill me up. As soon as the emptiness can get close enough to bite, it fills my veins like a poison venom, and I seem to infect everyone I touch. What did I do wrong in my life to deserve such a severe punishment? Who did I hurt so badly that life deems it necessary to continue to deliver me chaos, wrapped ever so neatly in such inviting packages? More importantly, WHEN did my life spin so out of control?
It’d be so easy to blame it all on my father. To cry and complain that it’s his fault for leaving me all alone in such a giant and cruel world. I can’t do that to him. He did the best he could for me, and left me with life lessons that I could never replace. Easier still, to place the blame on my mother. To say her cruel parenting tactics were the backbone to my rebellion. But what else could she do with me? What options did I leave her?
I am the sole person at blame for my messy, pathetic excuse for a life. I am the reason I have yet to ever succeed; to ever make something of myself. The opportunities have all but been dropped at my feet, but I’ve never had the nerve to reach out and grab them. I’ve never had the balls to completely start over....
My mouth waters at the idea, but it’s only ever an idea. This isn’t where I was supposed to be. This isn’t the way I planned things for myself. At 24, I was supposed to have seen the world, and I have yet to even leave the state. And now I’ve condemned three beautiful, innocent souls to suffer this unknown with me. I constantly feel like I’m in a dark tunnel, and every time I think I’m getting closer to the light at the end, I come to find it was only an illusion. A sad and depressing, completely malicious trick of the mind, and nothing more. What I once found a beautiful mess, has now shown it’s true colors, and is nothing but a disfigured, self-contained lie; something I’ve been telling myself to believe for years with the intent to protect, but now see the truth and the intent to mask and harm myself. To hinder myself from ever growing. Ever finding independence. To keep me positioned in the exact same rut, out of my fear of moving from it. To keep me from having to accept an incredibly cruel reality.
Losing myself in the complexity of having to face the reality of the situation I’ve put myself in, my greatest fear, now slowly seems to be the direction I’m moving in. Terrified of the unknown, I hesitate to jump into what may be a better but is still entirely new world. Somewhere where the drugs and the alcohol don’t matter anymore. Somewhere where the good outweighs the bad, and the laughs outnumber the tears. Somewhere where pain, agony, and emptiness are nothing but distant memories from a long forgotten time. A time that ceases to even seem real.
A thick cloud of smoke hangs heavy around my soul. My aura, once bright and shinning, now hidden behind a smog made of sweat and regret. The silence, once so calm and inviting, now screams far too loud. With nothing left to say or gain, I choose to melt into this fabric of life that I have woven for myself. Baring it all, the entirety of my naked soul, so many times and receiving the same result continually, is eating me alive. Did I expect something different? And if I did, was it really so wrong to?

(2014)

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