Paradox. I am a paradox. I am filled with sadness and anger a mix so bitter to the taste and harsh to the touch. I am a concussion of nostalgia and bittersweet goodbyes. I long for love but I was bathed in hate, drowned in sorrow and breathed out by pain. I am the poets mistake and the mothers disappointment. I am the scar that would not heal, the secrets that didn’t stay hidden. I am a paradox, I wanted much more than what I am, see I was good but never enough. I was a happy face with a sad soul. I took medicine to numb the sadness and to put out the hurricane raging inside the walls of my bones but I wasn’t sure if I wanted it to stop. See along with it I had something, I could feel and it never left. And at 3am when the demons would run wild, I had 4am because 4am was the time for the ‘hush now’ and the self soothing. Then 5am, the single tear drops to sing me back to sleep and lastly 6 when I woke hand in hand with fatigue only to be concealed and contoured back to life by depression. When I had nothing I had my sadness and my sadness had me.
- paradox: a person exhibiting contradictory characteristics. (via poetrygogh)
