2005-04-25 - 9:30 p.m.
I found something that i was writing in last year. It contained so much pain. But i cannot throw it away. I can't throw away this book that distresses me when i look at it. Why is that? Why can't we get rid of the things that hurt us the most? We hold them close to our hearts and it takes something amazing for us to ever let go. But what if something amazing never comes along and that book, those words, stay with me forever.
what is poetry? is it something that rhymes or something that comes from the heart? would what i write be classified as poetry? Or are they just jumbled up words from a jumbled up person?
Does anyone really know who they are? If they will be great, or become a dark nothing? Does anyone really know what they want? And if status or money will matter in the end? Does anyone really know what love is? Or if they have found it? Does anyone really know what pain is? Is just a creation of the mind? An illusion? Is there evil and good? Or are they always intertwined? Does anyone ever forgive? Or is it always in the back of their mind, eating away? Is there a god? Or just a need to have a ruler? Do we cry for a reason? Or just to see tears? Does anyone know the pain they cause? And how words can hurt more than anything? Is it brave to commit suicide? Or is death just a way of hiding? Does anyone really make a difference? Make the world a better place to live in? Or does nothing matter? Do anything change? Are dreams just make-believe images? Or something deeper? Is there a meaning to life? Or is everything pointless?
I want answers.
In my words I say what can't be spoken.
What wrong with me?
who am i? ambre
Torture comes in many forms.
Just because there are no bruises, don't say there is nothing.
Everytime i leave the house. No matter where i'm going or who i'm seeing. I leave myself behind. And put a smile on because that is all people want to see. They want to be oblivious to pain and hurt. So let them stay in their worlds but there will always be people like me.
What do u do
i thought i found the path but it was just another dead end.
i cannot find a reason for what i am. i cannot find the reason i changed.
i cannot find me.