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Joy Will Come.

Sitting closer than my pain.

Some memories haunt me like…some sorta.. Idk.
If could do anything to forget.
Cause I hate remembering.
It breaks me. Kills me. I don’t know what’s left to do.

I wanna be free. I need help but
everyone leaves me.

I’m in dire need of a Savior…anyone. Anything. FROM ANYWHERE.
But
It’s like you’re screaming and nobody can hear you
Or Maybe they can but couldn’t care less
This body is weak.
This body is tired.
Yes,
I’m sick
Infected with where I live: this. Same. Body

I need to move
But where?
I live here.
No other place is home.

I used to find shelter in other bodies but now, there’s no body.

People who said they had my back turned on me and then attacked.
Stabbed me on the back, and left me lying here to bleed

Now I’m still here.
But they’re over there
Living like nothing ever even happened

Treated me like I was some phase they needed to get over

So, I’m lying here,
With no help from anywhere,
left in a house full of mirrors to face the ugly girl that’s smothering me.

In rage I plan to break through; crashing through these reflective walls;
forgetting who I am and letting the shards of glass pass through my flawed covering, deep
down into this ugly soul to penetrate and destroy what’s left of this perforated pieces of
flesh I once called a body.
And then just a moment before it’s over, I will finally be happy.

Will it all be over then?

Now I look down at my present state and then realize;
I can’t even walk
let alone move
ugh.
Here I go with my flawed delusions. Again.

I realize that nothing ever comes that easy.
It’s either someone finds me and helps me, or I stay here paralyzed with fear, sorrow, bitterness, and pain till they all get me…slowly

But I can’t get help
no one notices me lying here
or…
Maybe they do.
It’ll be easier and less heart breaking to say I’m invisible. But the
truth is, I’m fully aware that I’m quite visible, yet painfully ignored.
But in this tired body, spirit perseveres.

He knew each tear before it came.

Joy will come.
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