Dust and Dreams-A Journey
A Private Hell (Dust)
Who the hell am I?
I consistently explore this paradox,
And come up emptier than a naked tree.
The pain is the only thing,
That reminds me that I do exist,
Albeit not by my own choice.
I have no identity,
I’m about as unique as a raindrop,
And they’re all the same.
Conversely, I am unique,
But not in a positive way.
I’m unique in that,
My pain is very real to me,
I grieve instead of live,
And it’s getting too lonely,
To survive.
Still here right now,
Physically, but my mind,
Lives on a different plane.
This dual existence is what keeps me breathing,
Even though I choke on air a lot.
The thought that things could be different,
If only I were someone else.
I don’t like it here,
I don’t want to be here,
I want to sleep in bliss,
And be left alone.
Peace is not a real thing,
Maybe not even in Heaven
But the irony is,
I can’t do myself in,
For fear of entering a Hell,
Even worse than this life.
Copyright 2003
Cristine M. DiMario
I consistently explore this paradox,
And come up emptier than a naked tree.
The pain is the only thing,
That reminds me that I do exist,
Albeit not by my own choice.
I have no identity,
I’m about as unique as a raindrop,
And they’re all the same.
Conversely, I am unique,
But not in a positive way.
I’m unique in that,
My pain is very real to me,
I grieve instead of live,
And it’s getting too lonely,
To survive.
Still here right now,
Physically, but my mind,
Lives on a different plane.
This dual existence is what keeps me breathing,
Even though I choke on air a lot.
The thought that things could be different,
If only I were someone else.
I don’t like it here,
I don’t want to be here,
I want to sleep in bliss,
And be left alone.
Peace is not a real thing,
Maybe not even in Heaven
But the irony is,
I can’t do myself in,
For fear of entering a Hell,
Even worse than this life.
Copyright 2003
Cristine M. DiMario
