One Small Word

                         Life. . .


Small word ain’t it. Filled to the rim with so much meanin. Makes this world seem so compact, with only one designation, a downward spiral of disappointment . . . devastation. So much pressure. So much pain. So much of everything. Claws clenched around my vocal cords, tugged, and pulled out. They implanted a new set, so I talk in their way. “Happy”. A façade voice. I’m living my life behind a voice that ain’t mine. I’m trying to shake the cords so you can, PLEASE HEAR ME . . . cry out. SCREAM out for that help. Those letters; S.O.S. drawn into sand, precisely in that one spot, in high hopes to be seen by a flying angel. . .with wings made out of metal. But then it’s washed away by the ocean’s waves . . . I’m submerged now, by everything I’m trying to release. Going deeper down into that place that’s so dark and cold, I’m tryin to reach up for something better, for that string of light, but all I grab onto is regret. It seems it’s the only THING designed to grab onto and not let me go. Now, there’s so much pressure. So much pain. So much of everything that it gets to be too much. I mean it drains me, sucks out my life. I’m going down, spinning round, without that strength to have that fight. As my hands touch the sand, I pull. I pull so hard to get out, but I’m stuck. Because my regrets, my mistakes, my failures, they’re pulling me back out. They’re pulling me back, down. So it’s easy to say that at the end of the day when I lay to rest, down in the dirt where the bugs infest. That these struggles I face right now, they are the ones tearing me down. I can feel the bugs crawlin around. Over my skin. They’re eatin away at life that dwells within.
But in reality though, my brain likes to play mind games. Bringing back screenshot videos of my past. Making me relive the moments that have caused me to crack. With every breathe I take in I’m there, even though. . . I’m not. Even though this is the NOW and that was THEN. Wherever I go, the present doesn’t make a difference, it shows no difference. Because I’m stabbed in the back, by the past, my past. I’ll be up feeling good, and then there’s that trigger. That shot a dull bullet to my skin, that envy of my past pulled, squeezed back that trigger, releasing that one bullet, with the barrel pointed in my direction. I’m brought down to my knees, without that chance to fight. Killing my hopes to reach for that genuine life. Hands are tied, brought behind my back. Now I can’t pull myself out of this hole, those people threw me in. But I guess that’s how this story goes. An innocent girl forever stuck in a hole, where LIFE, can no longer be in sight. But yet it’s a small word ain’t it? Filled to THAT rim with so much meanin. . . That it can actually block off my vision, as the dirt rises.
   I’m tied, blind folded, down on my ass, I go and SCREAM. But no one comes, no one moves . . . cause the funny thing is, it was only a screenshot video of my past reality. Man, its crazy when these things hit, they can feel so real. But what now? What do I do? I need a helping hand to grab me to pull me OUT of a past reality, that’s no longer real. But where are you? Where do you linger? I’m dying within a shell, where I can say. . . I don’t know myself. But I guess that isn’t my choice to ask, fate has this funny way of mending scars of the past. So I suppose I’m stuck waiting, dwelling, reaching for that one small word life, I never could grasp. Until fate, is finally able to hold my hand, feeling that warmth and comfort of hope, with a life.      
                 I can finally live. . .