May. 3rd, 2010

blueimber: (Default)
I suppose it is a good thing that i don't have any money saved;
for i am certain that if i had a small stash
i would leave this place
i would go someplace far away and never look back upon my life
upon its failures and upon all of the shattered and broken dreams of everything i have ever held up to the light.

my cursed hands.

i've been fighting the voices in my head;
the ones who arise when i am exhausted of spirit
when i feel like i have nothing left to do, to try for, to make real....
they speak to me as i try to find sleep
and they tell me of my worthlessness
of how heinous i must be
of what a fool i always act; to believe in the best of people
sight unseen
to believe in the good in them
and my irrational hope that someone might someday see my worth;
and know to hold onto it.

and i suppose it is a good thing 
that i still believe in myself somewhat
despite all of the ways i have let myself down
despite all of the ways i have been kept down
despite my inability to rise up out of any situation
to instead be dragged further into the mire;
and never once even think to ask for help.

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