Posted in 2015, poetry, Writing

This is the End

This is not the end.

But when I walk anywhere

its always the meaningless voices

that I can’t get out of my head

and they bring my thoughts to pain,

it can only be pain that I can think of now.

Am I liked? Are they looking at my flaws?

Did I do something that I shouldn’t have?

And though I tell myself that the answer is

what will make me feel the best I can,

my sleeping mind tells me that the answer is

whatever can throw me down.


I want to run but there is no where’s to go.

Laughing tears stream out of my eyes

and I feel as every eye turns my way,

but when I look around me at them

all I can see is the backs of their heads.

I look for somewhere that is safe

but find nothing but a public bathroom.

I enter and find myself alone,

and now its not just the voices

that I can’t get out of my head.

Now there is a silence that echoes

through my soul, drawing the thoughts out

and giving them new life when they need to go.

There is nothing I can do at this moment

to make the thoughts stay put then leave,

and now a storm rages in my mind.

This is the end, or so it seems

at the time when the storm rages on,

and now there are no more laughing tears,

now the tears come out of true remorse.

I can think of not the past or future,

but only the here and now in this “safe” place

fearful of the chance that anyone may come in.

I want to hide but at times like these

that is just simply not possible

so I let it run its course

and when it is over it leaves me tired

and leaves behind regrets that I can’t forgive.

I tell no one of what has happened

and I carry on like it never happened.

Yes, this is not the end.

In fact this is only the beginning of something great.

Only strength and compassion will come of this.

My story has yet to be completed.

My story doesn’t end here.

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