Post by RisingPhoenix on May 11, 2013 4:24:58 GMT -5
I suffer so much. I suffer at your hands and mine own.
Why would you make your own self suffer?
I think maybe I deserve to.
I don’t remember having a day without it.
My past, present, and future are riddled with suffering
I can see the headlines now “Woman sentences herself to suffering”
I was lied to for the longest.
Love is supposed to be kind
Love is supposed to be pure
Love can move mountains.
Kind?
You don’t treat me kindly and I don’t even treat myself with kindness
Pure?
There is nothing pure about this love except the suffering
And love surely does not move mountains because I feel the weight of the world upon my shoulders
You seem peaceful and everything around you is the epitome of tranquility.
Can I ask you something… why are you still in need of me?
You get off on the torture that you inflict on me?
Is this some sick game?
I’m half expecting a cameraman to come out of the closet and say thanks for the sportsmanship.
If only it were to happen that way
Would I be full of forgiveness?
Even if you were to end the suffering on your end
Would I really end my own?
Could I stop to the suffering I bring to myself?
Oh God why can’t I lift this hand of torture off of myself?
Or was this sentence put upon me before I even came to this world, like some curse set upon my ancestors?
It skips a generation but you were the unlucky woman it fell upon.
Did the Devil shake me in my crib when I was sleeping?
Did he visit me in my mother’s womb?
Truly, I cannot remember a torture free moment.
From my mother’s husband slapping me senseless on a daily basis
To the man who took my innocence when I was only a babe
And the Old man who thrust himself upon me when I was of school age
To the man who wasted twelve precious years of my life and driving me into insanity
The Devil himself must have marked me with his fingernails for the world to see and spit upon me.
What other explanation could there possibly be?
He hides in a corner in his invisibility and laughs at my pain mockingly as I scream to the heavens for God’s protection and HE has stopped listening.
I seemingly know not of the pain of others because mine is so great.
I am blinded with tears from sun up to sun down.
And selfishly hide in the shadows rocking while the phone rings.
Why answer, the voices do not console me?
How can you tell me keep my head up when you have not a clue of what haunts me?
You have not felt or seen the things I have felt or seen.
You do not see things the way I do, as I see no solution and I have no way out.
I am sentenced to suffer!
Because even though I have lifted my own hand to prevent causing myself to suffer, the mark remains upon my head.
I look in the mirror to see if I can see a trace of it but it is invisible to my eyes.
Only others can see the mark and they know instinctively what to do.
Does it say “hurt her” on my forehead!?
Or maybe he whispers into the ears of the people I know to hurt me, push me, slap me, tease me,
Fire her
Scream at her,
Cheat on her
Leave her!
Leave her!!
Leave her!!!
Why is loneliness the ultimate pain to me?
Why of all things it should be the most peaceful.
I have never been alone truly been alone.
I don’t know think I know how to be alone.
Someone has always been there for me.
If not just to cause me, pain.
Yes, yes, yes she’s quite mad isn’t she?
She would rather be tortured and have someone around
Than to be peaceful, left alone.
Why would you make your own self suffer?
I think maybe I deserve to.
I don’t remember having a day without it.
My past, present, and future are riddled with suffering
I can see the headlines now “Woman sentences herself to suffering”
I was lied to for the longest.
Love is supposed to be kind
Love is supposed to be pure
Love can move mountains.
Kind?
You don’t treat me kindly and I don’t even treat myself with kindness
Pure?
There is nothing pure about this love except the suffering
And love surely does not move mountains because I feel the weight of the world upon my shoulders
You seem peaceful and everything around you is the epitome of tranquility.
Can I ask you something… why are you still in need of me?
You get off on the torture that you inflict on me?
Is this some sick game?
I’m half expecting a cameraman to come out of the closet and say thanks for the sportsmanship.
If only it were to happen that way
Would I be full of forgiveness?
Even if you were to end the suffering on your end
Would I really end my own?
Could I stop to the suffering I bring to myself?
Oh God why can’t I lift this hand of torture off of myself?
Or was this sentence put upon me before I even came to this world, like some curse set upon my ancestors?
It skips a generation but you were the unlucky woman it fell upon.
Did the Devil shake me in my crib when I was sleeping?
Did he visit me in my mother’s womb?
Truly, I cannot remember a torture free moment.
From my mother’s husband slapping me senseless on a daily basis
To the man who took my innocence when I was only a babe
And the Old man who thrust himself upon me when I was of school age
To the man who wasted twelve precious years of my life and driving me into insanity
The Devil himself must have marked me with his fingernails for the world to see and spit upon me.
What other explanation could there possibly be?
He hides in a corner in his invisibility and laughs at my pain mockingly as I scream to the heavens for God’s protection and HE has stopped listening.
I seemingly know not of the pain of others because mine is so great.
I am blinded with tears from sun up to sun down.
And selfishly hide in the shadows rocking while the phone rings.
Why answer, the voices do not console me?
How can you tell me keep my head up when you have not a clue of what haunts me?
You have not felt or seen the things I have felt or seen.
You do not see things the way I do, as I see no solution and I have no way out.
I am sentenced to suffer!
Because even though I have lifted my own hand to prevent causing myself to suffer, the mark remains upon my head.
I look in the mirror to see if I can see a trace of it but it is invisible to my eyes.
Only others can see the mark and they know instinctively what to do.
Does it say “hurt her” on my forehead!?
Or maybe he whispers into the ears of the people I know to hurt me, push me, slap me, tease me,
Fire her
Scream at her,
Cheat on her
Leave her!
Leave her!!
Leave her!!!
Why is loneliness the ultimate pain to me?
Why of all things it should be the most peaceful.
I have never been alone truly been alone.
I don’t know think I know how to be alone.
Someone has always been there for me.
If not just to cause me, pain.
Yes, yes, yes she’s quite mad isn’t she?
She would rather be tortured and have someone around
Than to be peaceful, left alone.
