Breaking Myself

Too many nights I lay, walking the maze in my mind. Turmoil and utter despair, thinking about all the "what if's?" and how things should have been. Peace comes only in my sleep, but there is none. Waking from a beautiful dream only to see the same four brick walls. Often I feel like an alien, visiting a land full of cruelty and hate. Other times I wonder... Who the hell is the alien here? Silence is a blessing, and there are no blessings in hell. Solitude is a beautiful word, something that never comes. Dammit! This is my life, a constant battle against being broken. This is everyday. I know this isn't forever, not even a very long time... sometimes it seems someone pressed "pause" and all I want to do is give up.Written 5/8/99 in Bon Air Juvenile Correctional Center where I spent one year of my life. This one I did not revise. Though it is flawed, maybe some of the feeling will still slip through. This isn't me anymore...but isn't some backround good? Written April 21st, 2002 © on Apr 24 2002 02:30 AM PST   18 • 0 • 1