Paintings

Ever single day

I feel the backs of my eyes burn

I feel the lump on my throat

The muscles in my hands as I clench them

I shake my legs, trying to find comfort in the pattern that it makes.

Every single day

I feel the hot searing sting of what could have been.

 

One.

I know I shouldn’t feel this pain but I can’t help it.

If you’ve been waiting for something

Aiming for that one childhood dream your whole life

And you didn’t get it…

You won’t be able to stop the waves of pain that washes over you every day.

You won’t be able to stop the nagging voice in your head

That puts you down even more.

You won’t be able to stop yourself from letting the tears fall.

 

Two.

I don’t believe in God.

But when I failed myself I screamed at Him.

I let my anger flow as I prayed to him.

I shouted another hateful word after the other.

My prayer became a string of cursed anger at a being I believed wasn’t there.

It was as if I was shouting into the mirror.

Because in reality I was just really shouting

Cursing

Blaming

Myself.

 

Three.

I have become a blood red painting.

And my title is

What has now become.

 

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