Ponders

I sit as the sun rises.
The sky, its hue is gold.
I am tired and weary.
My heart, my soul heavy.
Dreams - rather night-terrors;
They ravage and steal my sleep.
My mind not what it was before,
Emotions explode, imagination soars.
I scratch yet I'm not itchy,
my thoughts cause me to think. 
Why me? I ask myself!
But no answers I receive.
It's like my poem parasite. 
The fear and anguish returns.
Depression and images.
Lord: for peace I yearn.
I truly miss who I was.
Strong, determined, fearless.
Now I sit alone, weak.
Plagued by my own perceptions. 
Recollections of my own phobias.
And with no way to release them, they just linger on.
Pondering my impending doom.
Why oh why do these considerations loom?
You see, to find peace for myself,
pain and suffering I would cause.
Because, in one quick moment, 
my life, I would have lost.
Leaving within its wake, tears and screams from the living.
What is it that's keeping me here?
My husband, family, my children. 
I've been like this for almost a year, perhaps even longer.
Sure there have been happy times.
Sure, some contentments; but always, yes always.
These mentations do return, finding their ways.
Causing dark and lonely poems. 
My odd and crazy rhymes.
Am I happy the way I am?
The response to that is no.
I need the ground frozen; covered in Virgin snow.
As that is the only time my fears stray.
There is no absolute. 
The thought always there, however that is all they are.
No harm in that right? 
I simply want to give up.
I can no longer fight. 
My lips covered in fever blisters.
Caused by the anxieties in my life.
I am trying, really I am!
For my husband to have a wife.
I'm not who I was before.
My disease has changed me so.
I hate it! FUCK I REALLY DO.
MY LIFE ALWAYS STRIFE.
I cry, I scream, fits of anger!
But to the outsider, I am commander.
It's funny really. They have no real clue. 
I'm only kept together with very little glue.
My paper is tearing, the thread of existance now frays.
How oh how I wish; yet only darker days.
I will tell you a secret, the only time I'm free.
Is when I am on the bike the motor roaring.
That's when I'm carefee. 
I cannot heal myself,
as much as I attempt.
I feel remorseful and full of contempt. 
I know I'm not alone;
in these notions that I have.
So many struggle daily.
But their woes ever so bad.
We never can compare one from the next.
All we can do, is pray for the best.
It seems they go answered more often than not.
I am not religious, it's within spirituality I sought. 
I've reached out to the dead to find answers to the questions in my head.
But no one is coming through. 
This I really dread.
It's with a deep sigh that these words seem to flow.
I feel I have no one to turn to
eventhough that's not so.
To tell the tales of pain and suffering.
My deepest darkest afflictions would show.
The only time that I feel strong is when I help others. 
I forget about my woes.
Because I open up my soul to them so that their strengths may grow. 
It's like having a split personality.
Or maybe a mask I wear.
Doesn't matter the circumstance,
​​​​​​for different people, I'm always there. 
It's almost like I give away my own resilience. 
To provide them with deliverance.
Their worries - stresses I take. 
No matter my anxieties or concern.
It's like I was raised to be this way.
A giver, not someone who takes from others.
A woman, a man or child.
To see them feel relieved.
To see them smile.
My dark days are my own.
Not for any other to take my thoughts home.
That mistake I have already made.
The secrets I've conveyed. 
Only to provide them with worry and even anger.
So now I will have to rely on a stranger.
To help - teach me to cope.
I tried guided meditation last night;
only to awaken what it is I fret.
The visions, imagination. 
All I have in my sight.
This is a journey I don't want to undertake. 
But it is mandatory for my own sake.
My personal safety, that I shall not act; 
on the thoughts I carry daily.
So my reality doesn't crack.
So my children have their mother.
So my grand daughter shall know who I am.
So that by my husband's side I will always stand.
So that my sisters will shed no tears.
So that my brothers don't wonder why.
These thoughts in my head - all I do is cry.
So; here is to a new chapter that shall begin in my life.
Coping mechanisms, techniques - my tought process I want to change.
I NEED TO BE ME AGAIN!
To be releases from the chains of dread.
To find peace and harmony once again.
It's sad that I must say, to alcohol I have turned.
Not enough to be ridiculous.
But enough to forget, I'm not concerned.
As I sit and write this outside the rain begins to fall on my head.
Could it be tears from heaven,
because of something I said.