THE LIVING HELL THAT LIVES WITHIN ME

I know what I am.

I know where I am.

Who I am, not so much.

I am afraid.

What if I die without finding out who I am?

I don't bother looking for what I haven't found yet any more.

So many years looking for what I don't even know.

I cannot remember where I came from.

That frightens me.

How am I supposed to live my life when I don't know what it's for?

Here I am, this I know all too well.

I am what I am, such as I am, and I hate that.

I don't know very much, just that I am angry and full of self loathing.

I don't want to blame anyone for anything.

But what the hell am I supposed to do?

What choice do I have?

Remembering where I am, I wonder where I will be going.

Fear clutches at me, holding me where I am.

I cannot go back, I cannot move on.

I am told to let it all go.

Then I am told to just hold on.

I am confused and frustrated.

When do I let go?

When do I let go?

Can someone please tell me what the difference is?

I am also told to deal with it all.

Again, what the hell does that mean?

I am told and hear so much.

It's no wonder that I do not know who I am.

I feel as though I am spinning 'round and 'round and ever 'round.

I am sick and crazed.

And I don't even know what to do about this.

I am afraid to live, and even more so, I am afraid to try.

I just do not know!

Chaos pulls at my mind.

Often pulling me apart.

My heart lies in shards on the ground, still bleeding.

My soul has been shredded.

I guess you can say that I am fractured and fragmented.

At night the tears come.

Washing me away, drowning me.

I'm afraid to close my eyes because I will just have to open them again.

Oh I hate the day.

The light is always blinding.

Inside I am scorched.

I am damaged beyond repair it seems.

Oh, if I could just shut off the world for a time.

I need to wash of all the grime that the world covers me with.

And could someone stop this world, I want to get off?

But it keeps on moving.

I feel so hopeless.

I am alone.

Feeling that my feelings are lying to me.

And I think I am the one who betrays me every turn 'round the bend.

I get knocked down every time.

It's so hard to get back up, almost impossible, in fact.

I fear being knocked down again.

It hurts more every time that I do.

I am told to love myself and to forgive myself too.

I am given another parable.

Tell me how I can.

Tell me what the hell you mean.

Because from my perspective I am only hearing babble.

I just do not understand.

But I am left to it.

I just cannot!

It hurts too damn much!

Maybe my anger is blinding me.
Maybe my hurt and pain from all of my harms are blinding me.
I just do not know!
God I am doing my best to keep trusting in You.
But with each new day it gets harder and harder.
And I slip further down into my living hell.
The hell that lives within me.
I am cursed.
I am forgotten.
I am forsaken.
I am so afraid that this all is true.
Because in my mind that is how I feel.
And no well meaning words are going to help me.
I do not want to hear anyone say anything.
Hollow words just float down to the ground before my feet.
No one understands.
Everyone pretends to care.
Not only am I lying to myself, so too do the so-called well meaning.
I try to get away but I always end up on the road to hell that is paved with their good intentions.
This is my curse.
Why I seclude myself.
And why I separate myself.
A kind of quarantine.
I am just so sick of it all.
I have grown so weary.
God hear my lament.
Can You hear my silent cries?
Can You hear the silence in me that screams?
Or does it all fall on deaf ears?
God please, save me, save me from myself!
My so-called life has succumbed to atrophy.
I am down to my last ounce of strength.
I am down to one last breath.
I know no one has my back.
I'm standing on the edge.
Ready to step on out.
Six feet doesn't seem that far down.
I feel that cold.
I am frost bitten.
Don't tell me that I am loved.
Because love bites and that bite always leaves a mark.
To me love hurts.
I have enough hurts to last a thousand lifetimes.
Now I am imagining a thousand eternities with all this.
I fall down to bloodied hands and knees.
In my Heart of Hearts is only scar tissue.
I have grown hardened by the such.
Making the hell in me so cold.
I feel so very cold.
I fall over onto my side.
Frost covers me and it bites deep.
I just want to sleep.
Just to know peace of mind just once, just for awhile.
But I am afraid to sleep because I am even more afraid to awake.
And all this starts over again.
Damned if I do, damned if I don't.
This is my own prison.
Six walls, no windows, no door.
I've only strength enough to say one last thing...
God please, take all this away!

SCOTT DAVID BUCKLEY