Wallowing Sorrows, Self-Pity, and Regrets

That moment when the word “comfortable” in your own skin doesn’t exist. When the word itself feels icy along your own skin and it feels like its not even yours anymore. The night when you feel like you don’t even recognize yourself when you look in the mirror, or feel like you don’t know who you are. Those days you feel as though you’re unpretty. Those nights that you feel so out of places that you can’t even tell where you are, and when you look outside you’d think its you’re own place that you see, but you know its yours.

You wonder where life will take you when you feel like you have nothing to turnĀ  to or no one to turn to but you know there are people out there who are there for you. When you look at yourself and ask who are you? When you can’t recognize yourself and you know it’s you but you feel like the person isn’t you because you don’t see the person you want to see you see a person who you wished you’d never see.

When you see the evil in you, rise from the shadows or the evil in you grow in the dark, you ask yourself where has the happiness gone? Was the light just a dream? Did that bright greener ever exist? Life is what you play it out to be, but can never be a game. One screw up can make your life upside down, but burnt branch can kill a world of communication, one glitch in a game can piss off a gamer. But the outcome of an action its the only way to determine if anything was worth a time used or wasted.

I’m over my head, and I’ve flown too high up but my wings won’t let me fall even the least bit lower to catch my breath. As a glide I watch a drop of water fall so low slowly as they fall they batter my wings,my wings start to fall a part and down flows that wallowing pain and sorrows. The never ending regrets that follow as the demons cling to her ever side, predicting her ever step of failure hoping she does fail to restart again and continue the pattern.