This morning, woke up again.
Feeling sick, sad and lonely.
Carrying on, making something of my life.
Why can’t I live up to your standards and our faith, it makes me become unholy.
You know. I always thought that when I grow up, I would finally be perfect for you.
But the pressure never faded, you didn’t allow me to make any mistakes.
How can I deal with it, sometimes I can’t, I eat.
Wishing I could get out of this place, over and over again.
I want to live my life and experience things that money can’t buy.
But for now, money is all I need, to get out of here.
Getting lost somewhere, everything better than being here at home.
Even though I’m not sure if I can call it that any longer.
Screaming, shouting loud and clear, you don’t want me here.
You will never understand the person I am.
Wishing and searching for a job for months, to feel free, so you can’t suffocate me.
Always talking about how people see you, what a carrying person you are.
I know you are, just not to me.
Just tell me how to deal with it, ‘cause there are times I can’t.
Tell me how to make it work, when she doesn’t understand.
I get nervous, stressed and messed up inside.
Wishing I could get out of this place, start of fresh. Instead I am building up the anger, leaving my feelings intensified.
Hear them out, care somehow. April’09. M.B.
Categories: Note Block