My life in writing

This is an original, one i wrote at 1:47 am on 12/27/2002, i remember the day/night to a tee. i remember what i was feeling, thinking and even wearing.  I spent christmas by myself. i was miserable. hence the title.

He's Misery

Misery speaks in a way i can't relate

and he dilutes his reality with that which i hate

but his spontenunity refreshes all logic

and in retrospect reflects on all nostalgic

He cries in pain not self inflicted

and avoids withdrawls because he's addicted

he withers away and searches for clues

that'll redirect his path to you

Misery beats, tortures and mends

corrupts the habitual, and ceases to end

devious routes in which he'll travel

truth be told he'll soon unravel

Mindless acts of pure indulgence

equals harmful signals of his convulsions

sympathy embarked a trail unseen

unhappiness apparent and pleasure between

Misery bleeds though his blood not read

and silence a trend and soon he'll be dead

the painful bliss that haunts our souls

are signs of weakness of no self control

Decisive acts that prove stability

leave questions of doubt and authentic ability

counterfeit feelings and false apprehensions

misery speaks beyond comprehension.

tell what you think. i'm curious. i've never shared this with anyone. i'm curious. (repeat)

Stay Tuned....