Mystery in misery

I am a butterfly waiting to be freed from its cocoon

I am a walking corpse, I am a mental case in a sane assemble

I do not find the reason for existence so I wish for the end, as I write my heart is irregular

So maybe I write my last, maybe not

I prayed for death for so long, this is probably the ending

You see I am insecure – broken beyond repair – damaged goods they call it

I beg for love constantly as a means to an end and for survival

Why do I live? Mostly because death doesn’t want me

Sometimes I try to kill myself, I have jumped into a pool and didn’t struggle

I have jumped in front of a bus; I have cut myself beyond repair but every time something/someone saves me

Death doesn’t want me, love doesn’t want me either

I search for happiness but realise that it is a temporary state of wellness so I long for joy instead

Has God deserted me is the question that I do not have the answer too

I forgive, I love, I live because I am obligated too – I want to respect the sanctity of the sovereign being

What do I know? Am I worth the trouble?

Maybe/maybe not

Please do not say you know me, don’t even try to think it because I am unknown to my kind – a mystery entrapped in misery

I have been locked in a dark dungeon and the key throw away

My day is always night – the sunshine means nothing to me for I am in perpetual darkness

I wallow in my tears and I drink tea with depression who hosts me because I am beautiful to behold

As I take each step every day, I pray to find the light that tells me

Hope lies at the end of the tunnel…



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