Please note this is just a poetry book I been writing since 13. I'm simply releasing it here because I feel it was more of a burden to hold onto. That it was holding me back. There are 29 parts.
Prologue:
I was standing at the edge with the echoing thought of jumping. Standing there, staring down, as I looked for the bottom. Thinking, what would happen? But once more what brought me here. I was consumed by so many emotions at once, in the end I was left confused and wondering. Wondering why, to that point at which I had found myself at this edge. There it is again, the urge to jump.
It wasn’t my only insane thought that I had because of this. I started with wanting it, and then began needing more. Like lust to a physical attraction, I’ve become an addict to this new drug I’ve found. I would do anything to have it. I’ve become drunk with desire over it. Now I don’t know what I would do without it. I have consumed so much that it has become me. It has poisoned my every thought. Because of it, my morality has changed.
No… no, not just that. I’ve changed. If it wasn’t for my eyes, I wouldn’t have been able to recognize myself. But even they look sick, and tired as well. Maybe it’s the sleepless nights? Maybe it’s the time I spent crying. Whatever it is, it’s tied into my loneliness.
Why am I lonely? This feeling follows me everywhere I go. Why…? Why do I feel this way? How am I able to feel lonely, even in a room full of people? Why? …This emptiness?
Yes…this emptiness. My room filled with nothing. My familiar dark room of nothing… buried deep in my heart. I’ve tried to fill the room. But couldn’t. It was either too much or not enough. It was never the right amount to fill that room. But I can’t just put anything in that room. It’s a special room that lies in the center of my heart. The very room the poison is trying to reach.
I just don’t understand. Before this I never really did have a problem. I’m now feeling a constant pain like no other. Far worse than any you can feel. And it seems the very thing that has done this to me is the only thing that can take it away.
And lately I’ve been sick. At times I feel weak all over. I would feel tired but I can’t sleep at night. I find it hard to breath at times. I have these chest pains. Sometimes my heart beats faster without warning. And I can’t think straight. Sometimes I can’t tell what is real and what fantasy is. I think I’m going insane! And I’m afraid. Afraid there is no cure for this. And it’s only getting worse.
It started with a desire. This whole thing here started with one single desire. And it’s strange, because I’ve never seen this before, not like this. But yet, I had such a strong desire the first time I saw it for myself. It’s not my first time knowing about it. I mean, I’ve heard of it from others and even seen what it does to them. But I couldn’t figure out why they acted the way they did. It makes them happy and sad. It makes them laugh and cry. I’ve also seen them lose focus of things. They couldn’t see anything but what they wanted to see. They would even do these impulsive crazy things. It was like watching a bunch of crack heads trying to get their next high.
The funny thing about this drug was that it was free. You just had to keep the supplier happy to insure you get this drug. Now it didn’t matter how much money you spend. Sometimes you didn’t spend any at all. All you needed was time. But what it all comes down to… how much are you willing to give? …Give up? …Give in? …Give out? What is your sacrifice?
Sacrifice?… pretty strong word. But that is what it seems you have to do in order to get this drug. You have to sacrifice yourself for this, but just how much?
I couldn’t have even imagined how much until it had full control of me. Because then, there was no limit, everything of mine I tried to give. And even after that I still try to give. I gave of myself by cutting to the soul and the bleeding just wouldn’t stop. This sickness was just killing me without the right treatment.
After a while this madness started to settle in. It became the only thing I would think about. I just wanted it so bad. I would pray about it and ask others for it. I’ve become desperate for it. I was dying without.
My heart was left out in the open. So there I was covered in my blood, lying naked in my self made gutter. I was exposed to anyone who could see me. I waited for someone to help me without looking at me with disgust. I would paint pictures and write letters in my blood in hopes that if they don’t see me that they might see them.
I waited, bleeding and crying in pain, till she came. And for a moment I’ve forgot about myself and everything else. She picks up my heart off the ground and sat next to me. It was then that I saw she had the same scars, which were just as deep as mine. She was just as damaged as I was. But yet I couldn’t help but to find the beauty hidden behind it all.
We sat there till we both gather the strength to move. And when we did, we moved to this very edge, at which we stand at now. We looked at each other and asked, “Should we jump?” We had nothing but our selves, nothing more to give. I told her yes. For the first time I saw her smile. So we jumped off that edge and found ourselves falling in love, hoping to never hit bottom.