no bed of roses
my lifes been a whirlwind of drama and bad luck and its taking its toll
i feel like i dont truly belong on this planet and its hurting my soul
all i do is feel the same day in and day out and i want it to stop
one more minute feeling this way i will surely lose it and pop
life isnt what i thought it would be and my arms are my releases
livings way to hard and its way to cruel and is no bed of roses
because my past is filled with tear stained pillows and ghosts locked up
and my future isnt written yet and my present is an empty cup
filled with uncertainties and sadness and in my mind ive died many times
in my dreams the moment i die all noises hush and all i hear are chimes
lifes way to hard and its way too grim and its no bed of roses
yet here i am rolling with the tide and staring at my waiting arms
and the urge to relieve myself becomes all comsuming with great alarm
i cry as i let the pain wash over my arm and smile all while i feel nothing too
its done what needed to be done and shame washes over me but what can i do
so why the sadness when i look down and see the scars there upon my arms
to find sweet release right there in the flesh and find the need to do myself harm
because my life is to damned right down to my soul and its no bed of roses
Zoey cup
Addiction As A Metaphor
Pain is pain, physical or mental - we self generate it - I was thinking on this yesterday. Addiction and escape - when life is addictive enough and offers so many places to visit. Glad perspective has returned. Blessings - allets-