![]() |
FAQ/Help |
Calendar |
Search |
#1
|
||||
|
||||
Thinking too much.
Writhing in Pain. It's all made up, Inside my Brain. Thinking aloud. Pray, what's the point? I only know To Disappoint. Just go! Oh no, I've said too much. Can someone give My Brain a crutch? It hurts too much No cure? I plead. To run from all These thoughts, they bleed.
__________________
![]() There is always a sky full of stardust |
![]() Bill3, Fuzzybear, indigo11, IrisBloom, Pierro, StillIntending
|
![]() Bill3
|
#2
|
||||
|
||||
Connect, I feel your pain in this poem. Well expressed. I am looking for a crutch myself.
![]()
__________________
Super Moderator Community Support Team "Things Take Time" |
#3
|
||||
|
||||
Sometimes I wonder if pain that's entirely made up inside of my head is even valid or real. But, I suppose, if it hurts me... it must be valid pain. I don't know, but knowing that what I'm experiencing is valid is very important to me, and is something I struggle with often. My head often goes in "thought loops," as I call them, which is something I think I see in your poem. I can't even seem to shut them off... Unless I "drown out my life in anime."
I guess I don't really know where I was going with this other than, I empathize. ![]()
__________________
"Do not be deceived, Wormwood. Our cause is never more in danger than when a human, no longer desiring, but still intending, to do our Enemy's will, looks round upon a universe from which every trace of Him seems to have vanished, and asks why he has been forsaken, and still obeys." -CS Lewis, the Screwtape Letters Teen with (probably severe) depression |
#4
|
||||
|
||||
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]()
__________________
![]() |
#5
|
|||
|
|||
(((((connect.the.stars)))))
|
Reply |
|