Fri, 10/04/2013 - 00:15 -- jobkle

It's hell.

To try to stand by yourself amidst the whipping wind that doubles you over and the pounding waves that drag you farther down.

You call out, "Help" with your cracked voice as it reverberates off a broken mountain hanging to your east.

The word comes back in echoes to your ears, "help, help, help" until it becomes mumbled garbage 

The word morphing and turning in the confines.

No longer "help" it becomes




You are in the middle of hell.

Life pushes you down and you lay on the ground bleeding as your friends skyrocket forward ahead of you.

You're last.

"But it does not matter how slow you go, as long as you do not stop"

No one will hold your hand as you battle the long sleepless nights forging the concept of "you"

You will surely give your heart to someone

and it will inveitably be crushed before your very eyes.

And you're expected to get back up.

When your friends leave you and you realize just how truly lonesome you are

like a wolf baying at the moon

Why am I alone.

Everyone else is successful from leaning on the crutches of their friends, but you are not so lucky.

Broken and mangled you trudge slowly behind covering yourself with the shards of a mirror to protect your inside.

When someone makes a racist, homophobic, or sexist comment, no one will stand up for you.

But you can't take it. 

Don't show your weakness for fear of exploitation.

While you are enswathed in darkness you stand alone.

Lonely, but known to say "at least I tried"


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