July 19, 2010
By Anonymous

I don’t know how I will make it
And I say I because it seems it is only I who feels this way
With my mind all in disarray—I’m hurting though none of me is hurting I am hurting
Because he hurts I hurt and because he is confused I am confused
Do you not see like I see through all selfish can you not stop and peer into the atmosphere that surrounds us both
Like smoke your first intake you cough and choke
But as your around it more and more you become immune
And does not immunity make you immune to others
Numb—but see I numb to become
And like some fall beside the waist side
Why am I not immune?
A disease I see and breathe but He said be free
I’m tied like a dog amongst the neck I cannot breathe
My eyes see things that nobody else seems
And my ears hear like their tuned into all opposition of what I profess
Driving me insane like insanity is my sanity—is me
See I lost me—a long time ago when she was everything that I dreamed to be . . .
But sadly that could not be like invisibility
Invisibility I wish—or otherwise I wish to dismiss
I am like a fly on the wall who hears but cannot speak
Or speak I do just not loud enough for those to hear
I seem to fear nothing for every fear has appeared so many times its like nursery rhymes that everyone knows
Woes are of laugh and curses are of strength
All reminisce has been replaced by forgetfulness or rum
But see I numb to become
Or at least I try
Its like every time I try to break away even that which fazes me to be the way is all in disarray
What is my name or is it just code for death—needing no name
I’m going crazy it seems in this freedom—more like chained in mind in which I can’t find peace
With the Son growing darker each day my light onto my path is like a boat at night in the middle of the ocean
And worse like I’m sinking but trying desperately to stay afloat
Life is Time and Time is Death
With each sound I breathe . . .the poison—like all food it kills you—can’t sustain you, I’m dying
In insanity
So again I ask how will I survive
Everyday the life in me is zapped out of me
My fight to be died quickly as though it were never there
16 years and my mind is going everywhere—the innocence of me I cannot calculate how it ever existed
So now I ask did I ever exist?
Either a robot for the world or for Him
There is no me and there is no freedom
For with freedom comes responsibility defiling freedom
And if anyone takes their responsibility seriously, with an earnesty
Does it not produce insanity?

The author's comments:
Dealing with responsibility. So large and so immense as sharing what you know to be truth. And knowing that people need it desperately . . . does it not produce insanity?

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