There’s a black hole in my life.
A hole that sucks up every piece of me.
A hole SO deep the bottom has ran out…
An endless abyss has been my life. It’s all I’ve ever known.
I don’t know what it’s like to hold a real smile. To feel the warmth of trust, and the pain I tote is like a weight unmeasured. Always tucked away in my sleeve. Never for anyone to see.
Every second and every moment it is ever present. Even in those sparse moments when I might feel an ounce or glimmer of what happiness might be like, It’s like an immediate switch. Always ready.
The black hole in my chest where a heart should be..sucks in the smiles…the hugs…trust…friends…family. It sucks in the warmth…the sunny days I can’t go out to see.. It tells me I’m worthless, a failure, a nobody. It tells me people are not to ever be trusted. That all they do is bring more pain.
“Keep them at a distance…just a distance…see.”
This black hole’s voice is my voice, so I should trust it. It wouldn’t lie to me.
“Black holes don’t make friends. Black holes are like sleeping zombies that drag thru their lives…completely meaninglessly. ‘Do nothing, say nothing, be nothing’….”
This endless, daunting, painful, despair ridden, lifeless shell of a being that was given a name. A name I call my own but wish NOT to own. I didn’t ask to be here. Wouldn’t choose to be here!
This black hole in my chest is my crypt. What if any part of a heart I have…is crystallized to stone. An ever constant chore to teach myself not to feel, want, feel loved, trust…This heart, my coffin of dreaded pain to wake with day in day out…
“I’m tired,” “I cannot do this,” and “I don’t want to be here anymore” says the last pieces of my heart that’s left to cry.
I cry till I can’t feel anymore to win myself some time…but the anger wells up and dishes pure hatred for me to eat. Self loathing, hatred, and pain is the new demon that sits beside me.
Not a moments rest. No more escapes. This new demon might have me in the end of it all.
The nights get long and the days short from hiding. Years have I sat wasting way…a dark room…a long dream. I long to be free. Free from The Pain.
“Pain” a word to simple to relay the true feelings of utter despair. “Despair” a word not deep enough to show the measure!
This black hole is my keeper. This prison of complete, total, torturous pain I call my meaningless pathetic life is Fin.
My life is just that “the end”…”the end piece” that nobody wants. Something is wrong with the end piece. It’s not right; it’s not good enough to serve any purpose…nothing.
Such a simple term. “THE END”!
That is ‘one’ very simple thing in life. When something is to its end…there will be no more.
A withered rose lying in waste. Waste that was life. Life that was a waste.
” ‘I’m very, very tired’ ” & ” ‘I wish not and want not anymore’ “…
…just peace. Peace would be nice…resting in peace.
Goodnight, Journal 😴💤🌙