I sat in a chair par the window. I was still in the asylum. Days had passed, and nothing changed. I hadn’t heard anyone speak of Alexander. Doctors would come in my room every few hours to make sure I was still alive, ou to make sure my arm didn‘t hurt.
I asked one of the doctors about my arm. None of them knew how I broke it. Even the paramedics a dit it was broken when the man from the motel called. I didn’t break it. I knew I didn’t. I think the motel manager did. He probably crushed it when he found out I never gave his Nyquil back.
Earlier I heard some doctors talking. They were thinking about releasing me in a week if they could get me talking. I don’t think they knew they had to come in my room and ask if they had questions. Maybe I had scared them to come in here, after the incident with Dr. White. A nurse and I had discussed it. She had a dit I put the fear of God in him. I-personally-thought it was funny. The nurse didn’t though. She gave me mean looks as I chuckled. I didn’t care though.
I was becoming plus and plus restless as the hours ticked by. The rain would fall every few hours. ou a doctor would come in. Nothing else, nada, zip, zero. I was ready to beat my head against a wall. I laid down on the bed, and closed my eyes. If I rested, I wouldn’t be as bored.
Sleep was out of reach, though. I tried for hours, and nothing happened. It was only seven. I wasn’t tired. I decided to meditate. It would clear my mind of over-worked thoughts, and-if lucky-put me to sleep.
I relaxed my shoulders. I inhaled and exhaled deeply. I was calm and relaxed. No thoughts dared to bubble to the surface.
“Damien,” I a dit a mantra to get the voice out of my mind. “Damien, hello?” The voice wasn’t in my mind; it was in the physical world. I opened my eyes. As soon as I did, I wished I hadn’t. I gasped. Tears came into my eyes, and I rolled over. I didn’t need to see this being.
I asked one of the doctors about my arm. None of them knew how I broke it. Even the paramedics a dit it was broken when the man from the motel called. I didn’t break it. I knew I didn’t. I think the motel manager did. He probably crushed it when he found out I never gave his Nyquil back.
Earlier I heard some doctors talking. They were thinking about releasing me in a week if they could get me talking. I don’t think they knew they had to come in my room and ask if they had questions. Maybe I had scared them to come in here, after the incident with Dr. White. A nurse and I had discussed it. She had a dit I put the fear of God in him. I-personally-thought it was funny. The nurse didn’t though. She gave me mean looks as I chuckled. I didn’t care though.
I was becoming plus and plus restless as the hours ticked by. The rain would fall every few hours. ou a doctor would come in. Nothing else, nada, zip, zero. I was ready to beat my head against a wall. I laid down on the bed, and closed my eyes. If I rested, I wouldn’t be as bored.
Sleep was out of reach, though. I tried for hours, and nothing happened. It was only seven. I wasn’t tired. I decided to meditate. It would clear my mind of over-worked thoughts, and-if lucky-put me to sleep.
I relaxed my shoulders. I inhaled and exhaled deeply. I was calm and relaxed. No thoughts dared to bubble to the surface.
“Damien,” I a dit a mantra to get the voice out of my mind. “Damien, hello?” The voice wasn’t in my mind; it was in the physical world. I opened my eyes. As soon as I did, I wished I hadn’t. I gasped. Tears came into my eyes, and I rolled over. I didn’t need to see this being.
I deny the truth,
But really,
That is nothing.
I do that just to protect myself.
I cannot let the truth overcome me
All at once,
I must let it come at me
Pieces par pieces.
The truth is always shocking,
At many times sad.
But I must accept the truth
Even after a while.
Because denying the truth
Is like lying to myself
Denying the truth hurts my soul
But it also protects my soul at the same time.
I don't know what to believe.
It's all too shocking for me.
I deny the truth.
I protect my soul.
I protect myself.
But I also hurt myself.
But really,
That is nothing.
I do that just to protect myself.
I cannot let the truth overcome me
All at once,
I must let it come at me
Pieces par pieces.
The truth is always shocking,
At many times sad.
But I must accept the truth
Even after a while.
Because denying the truth
Is like lying to myself
Denying the truth hurts my soul
But it also protects my soul at the same time.
I don't know what to believe.
It's all too shocking for me.
I deny the truth.
I protect my soul.
I protect myself.
But I also hurt myself.
Why, do things have to be so hard
In life?
Why can't things be easy
And everyone could just enjoy
Their short lives.
Betrayed
par an old friend
par an old boyfriend
It feels like the whole world
Has gone on the enemy's side
Why do things have to be so complicated?
Tears are rolling down my cheek
As life goes on,
That's what I do.
Because I feel unused, unhelpful, abandoned.
Life goes on
And even though I try
To shrug off the troubles I have had in the past,
Smiling,
Inside, I am extremely hurt
Stabbed par my own friends
I am deserted
Even though I smile
I am hurt
I am betrayed.
In life?
Why can't things be easy
And everyone could just enjoy
Their short lives.
Betrayed
par an old friend
par an old boyfriend
It feels like the whole world
Has gone on the enemy's side
Why do things have to be so complicated?
Tears are rolling down my cheek
As life goes on,
That's what I do.
Because I feel unused, unhelpful, abandoned.
Life goes on
And even though I try
To shrug off the troubles I have had in the past,
Smiling,
Inside, I am extremely hurt
Stabbed par my own friends
I am deserted
Even though I smile
I am hurt
I am betrayed.
I just started going on the path where my life had no light. I missed everyone from our school who graduated, and I really had many amazing Friends there. Friends who gave me memories that lasted forever...friends who helped me out when things got bad...friends who were always there for me. I know, however, that they will always continue to be in my heart, even as they went away from me. If they never come back, they will still have left hand prints on my cœur, coeur that will never be washed away. Life without the light makes me feel so lonely...like a vagabond on the streets with no home...like an eagle with no prey...like me with no one to cry with. However sad this situation I find myself in...I still know that life will go on...and I must continue to strive to be the best I can be. Even without the warmth of my Friends close by, I know that they will always be par my side even if they are not with me. All my Friends are the light in my life.