A New Schnikism: (Poetry Series) For Peace and Hope

This used to be the only way I could communicate,

To tell the truth from the lies,

To understand what was real and what was not,

Every word spoken out loud seems empty and lost,

The ability to decipher the reality from fantasy,

Those friends around me, are they really foes?

Why does it seem that those who I used to believe in?

Are handcuffed from the help they can provide?

The advice I receive seems to be steeped in poison.

How will I rise from these ashes?

How will I break these tethered moorings?

How will I land without the crash and burn?

And how will I heal from it all?

I just keep moving,

I just keep spinning,

I just keep running.

But what am I running from?

Nothing. I am running from nothing.

Nothing, I am running towards nothing either.

Every time,

As I keep fighting,

I seem to be losing every thing.

How do I flip this script?

How do I know which story is written?

How will I ever make it on my own?

When all I had from the beginning,

Is myself, which is all that is remains,

How can I still be so strong?

When all I feel inside is weak.

When all it seems,

The only power I have is to let people down.

Why do those I love get to take their aim?

And use me for their target practice?

Why is it that I am the biggest cheerleader for everyone else?

Yet, no one seems to be cheering for me.

All I’m trying to do is survive.

I stand here alone, suffering inside.

Why did I have to give up everything?

Why do I have to give it my all?

I do not know how not to fall.

Why do I have to give it all up?

Where is my path home?

Where is the love I need?

Is this all I will ever deserve?

Where is the help, I needed the most?

Why is it alone, I stand today?

Why do my days begin and end?

With this constant stream of fears.

With this constant stream of tears.

I am making the best decisions.

With the information I’m allowed to have.

But every moment slams into me,

Life, wave after constant wave,

Of a never-ending tsunami,

Every step makes me lonelier and lonelier,

Every step seems to make my fears larger and larger,

This river of dreams has become a torrent of tears,

This river of dreams has realized a lifetime of fears.

I don’t know how to fix this mess I’ve become.

I don’t know how to fix the project of me.

I don’t know how to love myself any more.

I don’t know how to hate myself any less.

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