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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2210566-Pain
Rated: E · Poetry · Personal · #2210566
One must still have chaos in oneself to be able to give birth to a dancing star. Nietzsche
I hurt…
I want to cry
I want to scream, yell, hit, destroy.
Anything that would make the pain go away.
I wish I was stupid.
I wish I could give in to the willful ignorance that I see so many others engage.
But I can’t, my mind craves clarity.
It craves objectivity.
It craves evidence.
Evidence that I am not as worthless as I believe.
But I’m stuck
Evidence I’m not as inadequate as I feel.
But I have nothing.
So I fight…
Not to win,
Not for glory.
To survive
But for what
I don’t know.
I wish I did, I wish I had answers, I wish I knew how to be better.
But I fail,
I fall,
And I get up again.
But why?
It hurts.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2210566-Pain