Bi-polar ("half-way out")

The shell that now surrounds this soul is hardened only to it's own sad touch.
The weight of all the hate and discontent for me at times is just too much.
With happy eyes that view the world so mean and unrelenting in it's way
the concious me forsakes itself denying that it's dying in this way:
Cheating those I love of even greater love that which I cannot feel.
Knowing this and growing ever older without touching what is real.
Realizing now that only part of me has made it through that shell.
Help me make a bigger hole so I can drag the rest out of this hell.

Last edited by James (10 Aug 2009 16:09:30)