I feel weak
Weak from the heart down to every step I take, because they represent the struggle I have walked
Those very steps are a print in the sand that shows I was there
I took pain in, it became who I am and it has engulfed me and suffocated me
I can see beyond the pain
I can't see through the fog of resentment
My heart beats against my rib cage, reminding me with every passing heart beat of the pain
It is in the memory that my knees buckle, giving in from all the burdens my shoulders can't carry
Those burdens have made me who I am, ANGRY!
Angry at the world, angry at my reality, angry at all the foolishness.
Who am I to think I am any better then any other homo Sapien Sapien
Is it not true that with the luxury of drawing breath is the horrible affiliation of life
You can't smell the rose without piercing your skin with the thorns?
You can't hold onto the dear memories of a once lived happy life
Without facing the spots of black
Everything will come with a beautiful picture, but with that picturesque view comes pain of past memory
How am it to smile everyday when all I really want to do is succumb to the pressures of life?
How am I to begin searching for the rainbow, when the rain wont seize?
Tell me.

I claw onto the nearest pillar of strength I can find because my reality knows not of standing alone
The though is enough to drive darkness back into its corner,
enough to drive the sea away from its shore
enough to take the feeling of want with it.
Want after nothing, dare not hope and ensure you keep every being at arms length
is

the lesson taught from all past experience

But to what?
To never wanting to fully live?
See the debacle is all in the questions asked with no answer.
If I don't have the answers, how can I ever teach?