#cjwrites

Sometimes I rise from my sleep alarmed by the nightmare that just occured / A tragedy that did not occur nor take place but affected me

Sometimes I rise from my bed confused for the reason why / I do not care for myself so why must I live on

Sometimes I rise from my seat alarmed by the immense panic that ensues around me / the anxiety grips to my chest and forces my heart to race

Sometimes I fall

Sometimes I fall from my triumphs with sadness overflowing / The great anguish and trails to get to the peak of the mountain come surging down like water from the waterfalls running to the top and falling back to the start

Sometimes I fall from my anxiety / the depression seats in pushing me further back to the corner where I belong

Sometimes I fall from my suffering that I've endured / the flashbacks occur often of the years of abuse pulling me back as if I was chained by the throat

Sometimes I stay

Sometimes I stay within the confines of my own displeasure / The idea of any form of stability may it be positive or negative allows me to feel comfortable

Sometimes I stay in the dirt that I fell into / The idea of moving from this barren floor hurts more than not moving / the sheer distrust I have for the people around me seeks to stay wherefor if I dare move and fail, I will be held by their pleasure in my pain

Sometimes I stay in the factory / The fumigated wasteland in which I inhabit has become one of which I hate and endure / But the certainty to go back to the floor and push the buttons upon my own misery becomes its own reason to endure

Sometimes I rise

Sometimes I rise from my failed attempts / the failures that I've endured serve as a stepping stone to form my stairway out of the hole / The process is slow but the idea worth pursuing

Sometimes I rise from my personal disdain / the fact that another can give their hope and compassion to this barren wasteland causes the drought to end / The rain falls again giving new life to the once forgotten and forsaken land

Sometimes I rise from the shattered past / The chain that's wrapped around my neck ceases to contain my desire to be free / it's grasp is no longer one that holds my abiility to move on / I am free to be what I am and not a mold of false and misplaced hopes of another