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deepundergroundpoetry.com
Fatigue.
I am tired of it all. Noone takes me seriously, I’m a fucking joke to the few who I let close to me. Just a junkie. And that my every thought, feeling or action is “the drugs”. There is nobody to turn too, cos when they look at me that is all they see. And I know when you read this you will think the same, my irrational perception has to be, as my significant other so put it; that I am fried… There is no encouragement, no support, no acknowledgement on the progress I’ve made in the past year. In fact I keep being told it isn’t good enough. I try to speak & am silenced. And if I try standing my ground I am threatened & mocked cos physically I do not stand a chance.
And its not just the fact that the whole three friends I have cannot comprehend, nor empathize, or relate to my perceptions- all they can do is feign involvement, to listen but never hear, as I see eyes glazing over & blank expressions blinking back at me.
I am tired. From all that has come out wrong.
I could go on.. I know its irrelevant to do so though. I cannot change these things, I just want to be alone.
I have only ever had myself, unfortunately I am unable to get them to leave me be, I accept that this is the life I so willingly chose. There is hope, I can see the knife in the drawer, the veins in my wrists & throat.
//Apr 11th, 2014
And its not just the fact that the whole three friends I have cannot comprehend, nor empathize, or relate to my perceptions- all they can do is feign involvement, to listen but never hear, as I see eyes glazing over & blank expressions blinking back at me.
I am tired. From all that has come out wrong.
I could go on.. I know its irrelevant to do so though. I cannot change these things, I just want to be alone.
I have only ever had myself, unfortunately I am unable to get them to leave me be, I accept that this is the life I so willingly chose. There is hope, I can see the knife in the drawer, the veins in my wrists & throat.
//Apr 11th, 2014
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