I wish I was more then a broken clock.
Everywhere I go the dark side of my mind always follows me.
It's hard when there's no escaping yourself and everywhere I go I always feel like I'm the center of stares and whispers or I feel as though I'm the center of turned backs and echoes of conversation calculating the times I've sat in silence.
I think about all the times I wished I would have just opened up and let out the side of me dying to come out. But I could never leave the sadness.
I could never just be normal and let go of my thoughts.
Every day there is just precious time of my life wasted.
All those times I prayed I could eliminate myself from the equation of time. 1 week, 49 hours, 420 minutes, 2 weeks, 168 hours, 840 minutes each day I've pretended to be a name I no never existed.
I want to be positive because I know I've stepped into a patient process. However I'm stuck on hopes and desires to much for my unworthy self to ever see as realistic.
I shake behind my anxious heart that's been tangled by this hypocrisy.
To the quote enforced in my bones like stone, the quote of "STOP WORRYING" .
But yet I'm still made to feel nothing. So those words rest in my vision but cannot be engraved in my Conscious mind. If anything they just rigashe off the armer I've hid behind in the battles in my head time after time.
They say time heals deep wounds but I feel as though time has made them deeper.
Time has aloud me to feel more alone and trapped.
Maybe God will answer my hopeful wishes and cast away the demons inside my scarlet.
If this is my only chance to be made pure and white as snow do I allow myself to fall again?.
I may be ahead now but I know my shadow isn't to far behind.
I'm scared of being trapped back in my asylum where I watched my clock tick backwards and Im forced to focus on every fear I posses.
Multiply that by 9 and you'll never understand why 9s my favorite number but maybe understand why 9 is the number I see in every shape of every object.
9 min of color, then 9 min of black and white every single day.
It drives me insane and I cover my ears because inside I'm screaming and trying to too toe past 9 lies, 9 tragedies, 9 people, 9 times, 9 memories, 9 voices, 9 scars, 9 fears, and 9 reasons as to why I am completely mentally insane.
Tic-toc tic-toc thats the sound thats unbearable.
The pain is stabbing at all of my insecurities. I turn over the hour glass and I start my life all over for the 9th time aware my story ends the same way.
That's why I don't have the strength to make it through September. Because I'm to terrified of October November and the worst December. 12/15 12/28 leads to New Years month after month to 7/13 to 9:00 to midnight and time freezes.
And I find myself.... siting with friends who are having a great time and I've been lost in my silence.
Once again I've been distracted by 9.
Everytime I'm isolated by myself I lose concept of reality.
My broken clock is still ticking backwards and Each time I'm terrified where its taking me.
But my method to escape you will never understand. My twisted thought process is beyond your comprehension.
To escape the dark side of my mind I use my weaknesses as my strength.
The identical tactics I use to destroy myself I use to accept the facts of my past to rewire my heart to have the courage to run forward until I relapse and the cycle repeats itself again.
I stand by the idea to always expect for the worst but hope for best.
this is why I can still be me living on opposite spectrums.
My split personality becomes a spell I can break temporary and through this twisted concept of survival is every reason needed to explain why my favorite number is 9.
But maybe the day when I've truly stopped feeling alone maybe then 9 won't just be a number to another suicide.
Maybe I can let go of 9 and divide it by itself to equal 1.
Because then I can focus on one life. No restarts, no broken clocks, no relapse, no worries.
If I have a solid group of people to surround myself around I might be lucky enough to find the place of no return.
To finally move forward and detach myself from this awful place called my past.
To finally be me without this mask I've glued to my face.
If this is my chance to be made pure and white as snow, the this time. I am not going to fall. But I'm still going to let go.
I am going to let the water wash away my footprints in the sand. They can't define who I am anymore.
In the distance I see the number 1. For my my one and only. My all mighty.
That's where I hope to find myself again.
That's where I'll finally be worth more then a broken clock