Who is going to protect me? Even the angels in my presence stand aside and touch-me-not. Tears are repulsive to every man. I feel like a beggar on the street waiting for my next coin, vulnerable, pining, and truly alone. I still see no real point to my sickness, except to live in this state till I die. Who is going to protect me? I know I would stay by the side of a sick husband if I had one, but no one will find me and no one will rescue me. I say to every lover I meet, "I love you too much to make you stay." A caged bird loses its song and my sickness is that cage. As a result, I wither from neglect. I will keep feeling neglected, keep letting lovers go, keep on staying alone and isolate myself, and stay unwanted for the rest of my life. I sound like a pompous ego-maniac, but my emotions are bigger than my ego, I only wish they would submit to me and be controlled and be happy. But I will never be happy again. Never.
worldsuponwords by avalon at 8:15 PM [
1 comment | ]
worlds upon words
It's going to be an exposition of my little sub-worlds, all in language that I try to put together. This blog was born way back in 2003, and I post more on social media now. I suffer from clinical depression, fibromyalgia, and a walking disability from surviving a suicide attempt. I have a passion for animals, writing, art, music and humanitarian work.
