Pitfall after pitfall, wall after wall.
Every obstacle that meets me, defeats me.
Knocks me back into the fall.
They say the first step to getting better, is admitting you have a problem.
So I call their bluff, and I muster up just enough.
"I need help... I do."
Now what's left? What is step two?
Who truly stands beside me? Who remains?
Only by my side, it seems, to complain.
They tell me to share, yet refrain from following through with their care.
Who can help the nothingness?
Holding my own, against this lowly solitude.
Replacing the feelings that I once held dear.
Now nothing but darkness and fear.
Who, but myself still stands?
Will I overcome this reliance to pain?
If life is a game, am I just another piece awaiting to be played?
How does one regain their resilience?
Rekindle their self-control, their brilliance?
One must journey what seems like millions.
Until the point that cannot be breached is reached.
And so, at the brink of defeat I lie.
With one question still lingering in my mind:
Will I my find answers here?
This is a piece that I found in the back of an old journal I have kept around. I don't think it was meant for anything but venting some of my feelings onto paper, but myself and a friend thought that it was pretty. I did a few modifications and edits to the writing, but it is essentially the same piece.