PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

It's perplexing, incredibly frustrating, this liquid that is my core, it's in perpetual motion and subject to knee jerk reactions from its environment and at the mercy of my whimsical desires. It makes my grasp on sanity and the pursuit of solace arduous at best and insurmountable more often then not. Leaving me cursing my own complexities and seeking the simplicity I see so easily displayed in others. And when I cannot mimic the actions and successes of those around me I'm hit by waves of failures and loneliness that wash me into a pit of despair of my own creation. At times like this I am at a lost on to elevate body and spirit and these are the scariest of moments when the darkness that resides within feels more like a home then the passions, places, and friends I've come to known. The question arises on whether the continuation of this self is right or needed, I wish I could say that I've always answered yes, but when the alcohol seeps through my flesh, my pride too wounded, and my curiosity dimmed I answer no. How I am still here to write this now I cannot say, but I have a theory and it's derived from a word I've deemed poisonous and more hurtful than helpful: Potential. It's a paradoxical source of motivation for living, my potential, how I've eluded the things I might have been, but how when now I evaluate my abilities and the possibilities of future days it leaves me hopeful still. I doubt I'll ever understand myself and what it means to be me or the hows and whys of my actions. I can only try to overcome these internal struggles and fight them from plaguing my potential.


Sincerely
Diamond Wills New War