The weight of the world

The agony we all have to endure never seems to end well. This is my story in poem.

Fog and blurriness, like a sheet of snow, wrapped around my head,

until the age of four. 

Recalling random events that my memory triggered, made me a bore.

It seemed like the past entwined me with dark lace.

Everything I thought I remembered, I could never ever trace.

I couldn't recall the smell of glamour, I couldn't recall a face.

I didn't recognize anybody at all, nobody in that place.

I thought my dreams were real, which made me feel dead inside.

I didn't know what I was, because I never felt alive.

I daydreamed and daydreamed of something more memorable.

But in the end, I felt I was never part of this ongoing world.

I never could explain, the deep depression that constricted me.

I was so young, and didn't know what was wrong mentally.

In the times, that seemed so wrong, I couldn't remember, because there was still fog.

My mom and dad were always fighting.

All I could remember, were the times that I was crying.

My family never felt like a family. So broken, never together.

I wondered if I was going to be with them forever.

My parents at the edge of divorce, always made things worse.

So we stayed at my grandma's house and I felt comfort.

I got to pet the dogs, and didn't have to worry.

I didn't felt like life really had to hurry.

But soon enough, I was eight. 

Four years later, was enough to contemplate.

I didn't understand what bulimia was.

A kid my age, didn't know how to feel tough.

My sister didn't appreciate food because she thought she was fat.

It hurt my feelings, too, because I didn't want her to think that.

She was hiding her feelings, like I have always hid mine.

Remembering back on it, I wish I could have saved her in time.

But I knew it was already too late.

She went to rehab and I stayed in faith.

I would pray to God that she would get better.

She got out of rehab, and she began to ate.

I thought things were lighter, but the more I saw, the more I began to hate.

She went back to her old ways, and couldn't even appreciate.

She became rude, she became dull. 

She stole mine and my families food, she was a fool.

She hid her puke in milk jugs, she was rude to my mom.

I began to felt a side of me that was very very wrong.

I didn't want to feel alone. I was very jealous.

I envied this helpless child, because my heart was also melted.

The envy soaked my thoughts and I thought I wasn't loved.

I couldn't care about anything anymore, because I wasn't the one.

Being the youngest, I always felt left out.

Everything I did wasn't right to them.

I always made mistakes because I felt lonely.

They didn't understand what kind of consequences it could have made.

Luckily enough, my friends were enough for me stay.

I was still young in middle school, and ambulances were always at our house.

My sister almost overdosed, I wanted to scream and shout.

This happened plenty of times throughout my life's course.

Eventually, what happened in the end, my parent's divorced.

My mom found a man who didn't abuse her. But I didn't like him.

I couldn't find it in me to separate them.

My dad would always have different girlfriends, and I knew they weren't my mother.

I didn't hate them but they just weren't right for me.

I started to feel poorly.

Everything I did was terrible.

I slept with a man who did not love me.

I neglected my friends even though I was lonely.

I couldn't bring myself to feel happy anymore.

My life felt off compared to everyone else's, I was on the floor.

I started to think about suicide constantly.

I grew up a little and met the man of my dreams.

I was still young, I was only sixteen.

I lived off and on at different places.

I didn't like that I had to keep changing.

I kept getting negative feedback from my dad and from people at school.

I couldn't handle it so then again, I moved.

I moved in with my grandma and my sister.

Both were on meth, so I ended up in a twister.

Anxiety boiled and twisted me left and right.

I knew from then, this was the fight for my life.

My relationship with my sister had broken off for a very long time.

And it cut from my grandma's too.

My grandma was one of my favorite people, so I didn't know what to do.

She used to save me when I was a kid, to make me feel better.

I loved my nana so much and I loved my grandpa.

I was always left out to them, and my sister was so much greater.

I was the odd one out for the last time. 

I had to move with a friend who chose her fiances side.

I left there and partied with my other siblings a while.

All I did was drink and smoke.

I couldn't give up this kind of life.

Got the chance to move in with my boyfriend, but it was a strife.

I began getting jealous over pitiful things.

He helped me overcome the pain, and I knew I could do it.

Even though there was a lot more that went on, I will never forget the pain I felt.

I will always feel the heat strike the volcanoes core until it melts.

Author's Note

Sorry it was repetitive, this is for a contest. The contest is over but I wanted to share. Apologizing also because it's a very long write.

Reviews

[DeathHaze]

Love to read more of your work and keep writing :)