Why am I
crying? It
sounds like such a simple
question. It's not. Sometimes I
can answer
it, but most of the time I
never know why. It
makes sense; it makes no sense. How am I to know when it is which? I don't.
Why
am I crying?
Always with the
tormenting thoughts. They come
unbidden. I
can't help it. They hurt me, but they're all
my thoughts. I have
no control over them. They
swim through the
space that is my mind and they
burn. They burn. Pain -
random,
sharp. I never
know when yet another will
sear into the
flesh of my
brain, my heart, my
soul. They're all there, just
waiting for this or that, their
chance to
strike, like sharks.
Sharks in the
ocean of my mind. One
bite causes the
frenzy, and I'm
smothered in their bites.
Please make them go away.
Why am I crying? He
left. He left just now, said he was
going to bed. He's hurting, I can feel it. I can't help him. I love
him..
I can't help him. I hurt when he hurts; I want to help him, but I can't. So
helpless. Always so helpless. And those thoughts, those
shadowy sharks, they grow
restless with this pain,
feed on it. They
revel in it. They strike.
Fear, pain. Does he
love me? Will he
stay with me? Will
I lose him? I don't want to think them; I don't want to
dwell. They won't let me do otherwise.
Please make them stop. I'm so alone. Alone with them.
I'm scared...
Why am I crying? I
perceive things that aren't
there. They are
twisted by the
evil that is
my mind. They hurt, when they were never meant to be.
People,
actions, single
words, all with the
stabs of sharp,
burning icicles into my
heart. I can't breathe. My
chest hurts too much. I don't want to
breathe. To breathe means to
live. To live means to
feel more pain. I don't want to feel the pain. I don't want to live.
I don't want to die. Is that what
it's all about?
Maybe. Maybe not.
Who knows? I don't.
Why am I crying?
Because I can. It is there, it is
release. Always
available, always
ready to begin. Does it
help?
Sometimes.
Not really. Maybe. I don't know. It doesn't bring help.
Why should it? That would be
too easy. No one there to
comfort me, no one there to hold me. I want to be
held. Is that such a
bad thing?
Contact. Physical contact would be nice. I'm so alone. I don't
want to be. Can that
change? Maybe. I don't know.
Who does?
Why am I crying? It's
another night. It's every night. All nights. Each night is the night
before. They're all the
same. They begin the same. They end the same. I
begin the same. I
end the same. Always
pain, always
hurt. I can't breathe.
Make it stop! I would do anything to make it stop.
Please make it go away..
Is there anybody out there?
Why am I crying? And to
think, I always said I hate
angst.
I do. I'm smothered in it
all the time, through myself. Why do I
need it from
somewhere else? When it all
overflows at last, get it out
somewhere.
Node? It's worth a
try..
I'll try anything.