Clings

Your sadness clings to you,
Did you know that?
Have you seen how it stains your skin,
How it pierces your flesh?
You try hard to cover it up,
Wash it off
Conceal, they’ll never know

And you’ll never know
What it is like to not be this way

Oh yes your sadness clings to you,
It damages you
It will destroy you
If you let it

And I’ve seen you let it
Let it grow and grow,
Making every thing good and generous
Become twisted and monstrous

You’re letting your monsters in

You’re captivated by the sadness
You think it’s a blessing
And maybe
Maybe it is

Not for you,
No for some other soul
You’re lost and losing ground

You’re falling
and
sinking
and
Drowning

Your sadness clings to you

You try hard to cover it up,
Wash it off
Making every thing good
Become monstrous
While you’re captivated

By the stains on your skin.

Coming back feels more like home than I'd care to admit

I'm scared,  tired,  and a little flushed.  I'm not alone though,  which makes all the difference.  I'd be dead if I was alone, I'm not strong enough to face life on my own.  I need people to fall on, to cushion me.  Or the dark in me would most definitely win. 

I have so much dark in me,  heavy and oppressive and unrelenting. I'm lost but not alone.  Lost in the spiral of self hate and desperation and fear.  I'm so afraid.

I have people,  but I don't have my God. 

People fail but God is hard to reach.  He is supposed to reach down to me in my lostness and sin.  He hasn't.  Not yet.

And the darkness in me grows with each passing day.  I don't look forward to the future,  I don't look straight ahead.  Because if I do I know I would get overwhelmed.

I am overwhelmed and afraid and useless and lost and managing from day to day.

Trying to find distractions, things to sustain me.

Call me an escapist but you don't know the heavy reality I face. If not for diversions, I'd be dead long before now.

No one seems to realize that.

Guess I play my diversions well. Wouldn't be able to explain it to anyone else anyway. 

I'm depressed. I think about my death often, both wanting it to happen already and wanting to make a mark before it does.

In my darkness, I will meet my Creator.

I just hope he gets to me before it comes to that point.