Phoenix on fire

A piece of me is dead,

And other pieces fade away each passing night.

With no reason of existence,

I stare at the moon and whisper,

“It is only in my mind.

I can change if I want too, right?

People think I do it deliberately;

That I choose to be this way.

But everything hurts.

The shadows are more welcoming and clearer,

Than the light, distorted in every generation.

Its so loud and empty inside,

Leaving me lonely and gray.

Nothing seems to fill this void that slowly sucks life out of me.

It pretends to be slave while its master over me.

I am left undriven.

Like a boat been directed by the ocean waves in a storm.

I close my eyes hoping death visits me,

But it eludes me just like sleep when I need it most.

Hi

I am Jonathan.

No, you cannot help me.

My mind is a maze that happy pills get lost in it too.

 

Healing Faith

With my big heart,

I cry out to Jehovah.

Lost with no purpose and over thinking every direction,

I bow before a God most think is imaginary.

I cry out to Him, asking Him to draw me closer to Him;

For I have hit a barrier I cannot break and it has left me hopeless.

What is the next play on this Chess Board where I stand as a pawn?

I find myself crying out and yearning for a God I will never understand.

He knows I often fail to trust Him.

I have failed Him and in guilt and loss of hope I have turned away from Him.

But my soul grieves and my heart cries out to be more aware of who He is and His presence.

To walk more with His Son and Words.

I feel the darkness fading,

Yet it still fights to cling on.

With so many broken pieces,

What will I become?

Breath

When night falls,

Breathing gets heavy.

Thoughts run wild and the body lays paralyzed

and only eyes move from left to right,

filled with fear;

fear that births monsters.

I fear sunrise and the mental pain I will face

when day breaks through.

The weight of the chains around my heart and soul.

The pride of thinking I can take care of myself.

The prayers that feel like they carry no weight.

The questions on how I am doing.

They all scream at me.

I feel the fear deep in my veins;

making my heart race,

my body tremble,

and my mind implode.

The birds tweet and I smell the sun.

My demons flee to fight another night.

I now lay confused and trouble,

wearing a fake smile as I mourn inside.

No one has to know.

I whisper that “I am okay and I will be fine”,

as I struggle to get out of bed and face the world.

Some days

Some days when my eyes open wide

in the morning,

I wonder why I am still alive.

Some days I am happy to be alive.

And some days I am so gray

that I am filled with thoughts of death.

Hidden so well that all you see is

a young man filled with life and no care of worry.

With a burdened heart

I walk around and watch my day slowly fade.

Exhausted from pretending to be someone else,

I drag my feet to my safe-heaven.

A place I will allow

my thoughts to throw a tantrum

and watch my mind break.

I will dress in gloom and fall asleep,

wondering if I will open my eyes wide open in the morning.

 

An illness

After being around people

He retreats to his normal habitat

He turns into what he believes is his true self

He no longer has to pretend to laugh or smile

Or make small chit chat with no intelligence but humor

….

Immediately he walks in his environment

His mind calms down and a weight is lifted

He feels somehow comfortable with his demons

He embraces them and whispers how he missed them

He slowly understands that it’s not a feeling but an illness

It’s part of him and without it he seems lost

Some days it feels better than others

And some days not even meds help

But he learns to manage it

He learns to keep it a secret

To often wear a smile

To not burden anyone

He has learnt to wear masks

For it’s a war he must fight

And casualties must be avoided

Questions

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I just feel trapped
Even under the light
No longer comfortable in my own skin
I hear my soul crying out
Not in toture or pain
But it screams out for pain
I flee from soul degrading sin and still it doesn’t make me less a sinner
It makes me feel even more worthless
Unworthy to die for or love
By this majestic being who doesn’t even need me
The God of all gods?
Who am I to Him?
Son?
My mind speaks volumes of the broken vessels he told me to keep holy.
I am ashamed of what I am.
I try to live without Him yet know that my very existence is because of His grace
Cold yet warm my mind is
Lost and confused
Knowing what is right yet been led by the flesh
Reading His mighty words
And i try to believe Him
But the picture the world has painted
Makes it hard to believe
The anguish and pain.
Men have become gods to other men
And His word says He allows all evil and good
But evil out weighs good
A good imbalance?
I will never know.
I will die in anguish and curiousity for my many question will have unsatisfactory answers or go an answered

To the future me

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You’ve fought wars and shed blood
Covered in scars that only a few can see
You’ve become a becon of hope
To those fighting monsters in their minds
You’ve saved lives
Yet you still look at your scars when days where so bad that death seemed to be the answer
Sometimes your demons get courage to challange you
And often you want to give in
And throw your sword down
To let them cut you down
To enjoy that last breath of relief
But God gives you strength to fight another day
I know you still carry peoples burdens
You live for them
Something to get you out of bed
Even if it means dragging your feet through the day
I am proud of you

I am not suicidal #1.

No I do not want to take my own life,

But I do think of killing myself.

I hate the fact that I only exist and have nothing to live for.

All my passions are temporally and fade like smoke.

I fight to get out of bed

Wishing I didn’t have to wake up.

I end up wishing that death took me to what I presume

a better place than here.

I imagine hanging from the ceiling,

(I laugh about it and call it levitating).

I think of Jumping onto a moving track on the highway,

Or maybe jumping off a building.

But I cannot because thinking of the devastation

I will leave behind depresses me.

So when it gets really bad,

I wear the best smile I can and push myself to not let it show.

But I feel the breaking point coming.

Scars and masks

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It feels like you are drowning,

the point when you no longer have strength to fight for life.

Your body, mind and soul are exhausted,

But somehow you have strength to survive the day.

The worst is when memories of when

you fought with your loved ones fill your mind,

when you embarrassed yourself,

the ugly words you threw at someone,

the words they uttered when you got on their nerve,

unintentionally off course.

You want what’s best for people but personally you prefer to suffer.

You have no will to live, nothing to lose;

for whatever happens you deserve it.

It takes all your mental strength just to stay sane.

You eventually feel entitled to do anything for some peace,

for some relief.

You learn to cut.

Perhaps cigarette.

You become a glut.

Maybe a rebel.

You learn to wear masks losing your true-self,

wondering if it will ever get better.

 

Falling…

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I hear its thunderous battle cries,

Already proclaiming victory over me.

I wonder whether I am calm or scared;

It seems I have forgotten how to fight back.

Let it in

Feel it

Then let it go,

whispers the air around me.

But what if I enjoy it too much?

What if I don’t want to let go?

That beautiful feel of loneliness,

battling to get out of bed.

Dreading being around people;

Wanting to be alone always.

Demons screaming in my head.

The joy from the cutting and intoxicating of myself.

The excitement of heights and learning to fly, once.

The calling out of my dark poetic self with a twisted mind.

What if I feed on the pain just way to much?

I am terrified of going back.

But what will I do when the voices take over,

and my powerless self fails to hold it back?