Do You Know?

Whispered secrets

Happy songs

Ominous sounds

 

Interesting facts

Screams of rage

Loving words

Intriguing stories

Shushed laughs

Tantalizing notes

Exciting news

New memories

Incessant arguing

Nasty rumors

Gripping poems

?

Drummers

Hundreds of little drummers sit upon my roof

Incessantly pounding the shingles with fervor

They play a song of rage and calm

Happiness and sadness

Uproar and peace

Years and years worth of wars, love, pain, and joy

Falling simultaneously above my head

Rolling swiftly down the slant

Dripping onto the ground

In small drops 

 

Done Hiding

My fingers glide across the keys

Playing notes that touch the very core of my soul

Expressing the pain in a way that only music can

Tears stream down my cheeks as I finally let out my emotions

Pent up for so long because of pride, embarrassment, and fear

I want to be done hiding

So I'm letting it out in one of the only ways I know how

~B.J.E

Drowning

I felt like this needed some sort of intro, but I think I'll just let the words speak for themselves.

"How are you feeling?"

I feel like I'm drowning. I'm scared to ask for help. Partly because of my pride and partly because there's nothing anyone can do to help me. I feel as if all hope has been drained from the world. My plans, dreams, and ambitions have become obsolete. I'm lost. Drowning in a pool of despair and I can't seem to find the surface. And so, I am faced with a choice; Do I give up or keep holding on?

The thing about holding on is that it's hard. It requires work and effort. I have to give it everything I've got. Not only for myself, but for everyone who is depending on me. I have to want to save myself from oblivion. And the question that I pose to myself time and again is, "Would oblivion really be so bad?" And then, eventually, I snap out of it and I become myself again. I realize that oblivion isn't what I truly want and I pick myself up with what strength I have left. 

  It's hard and it hurts like hell, but it's necessary. I survive, despite all the pain and sadness. I break and stumble, but I keep moving because I have to. I have to be strong and tough. I can't let the world get to me, so I put up walls and wait. I wait and wait and I'm alone because no one has tried to get past them. All I want is to know that someone, anyone is on the other side desperately trying to get in. 

I've let myself become so absorbed by the fact that I feel so sad and lonely that I break down, piece by piece until, eventually, I get back to that place where I feel like I'm sinking in that wretched pool of despair. And that's when I finally realized that I've been consumed by it. The cycle has gotten me- become me - and now I can't break free. A prisoner of myself...

"Fine," I say with smile.

*Just a quick note, this is not a suicide note, just something that popped into my head and demanded to be written down.*