Mood:
hungryNow Playing: Kids laughing... =)
Topic: Poetry
She sits with an undertow of sadness in her soul,
Every now and then a trickle of it shows
Waiting for redemption
Waiting for salvation
Waiting for the blackness to subside….
Her colors fade so fast
When she allows herself to feel,
And emotions are an angel and a demon at their best
Without logic, without reason
Trying to understand what’s going on inside
Is a trip through hell and back, in and of itself.
So she waits for the tears to stop,
Slowly but surely feeling her heart
Crumble into pieces again,
Fall apart and unravel,
The decay of her soul and her sanity
Falling in around her
And taking over everything….
How did this happen?
With one wrong path chosen,
One mistake made,
The spiral begins, and gains momentum
Hours pass, as she contemplates her life
The choices she’s made, the mistakes
The ceaseless and persistent sense
That she will remain broken
No matter how much duct tape
Holds her together….
She’s tired, fighting the sadness…
Exhausted beyond recognizing herself,
Falling backwards into the arms
Of darkness and depression,
The same black world she knew before
Seems somehow inviting in its painful presentation,
Drawing her in
Making her want to bleed nothingness,
Feel nothing…
Be nothing.
The positive bubble around her is gone,
No longer protecting her from
The agony she knew before…
It all comes crashing down around her,
The safe little world she tried to build.
When there’s nothing but pain in sight,
How can she find the motivation,
The drive, or the ambition
To keep going even though the road ran out?
Persevere, persevere,
But how?
Does this, too, have a reason?
Is this undertow of sadness
Pulling her down to where she belongs?
Are the windows to her soul
Meant to portray
A beautiful world, built through sheer will,
With and underlying darkness as its foundation?
Soon, emptiness and numb
Will wrap their loving arms around
This somewhat damaged heart…
The tears that escape are her emotion,
Her ability to feel….
With every heartache, it gets worse,
Takes longer to recover,
Her resilience fleeing with those tears.
Does it really mean she isn’t real
If she can no longer feel?
Jennifer Johnson © 2008
"Undertow of Sadness"
“Always find my place among the ashes.” – Evanescence.
Posted by broken.poet
at 7:15 PM PDT
Updated: Monday, 9 March 2009 7:21 PM PDT
Post Comment | Permalink | Share This Post
Updated: Monday, 9 March 2009 7:21 PM PDT
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