I’m not sure exactly why I’m here. There are some things I have to get off my mind. I’m stuck in a world of pain and pleasure. Like the knife that I took to my wrists brings fourth a rainbow of color, filled with promises and great things. I walk toward the future with faith and regret but I don’t know how I’ll make it. I’m sick and I’m sick of being sick. And I’m supposed to help the sick. My friends are leaving. One by one they come and go. Walking into the tornado and flying out hurt if not dead. Dead. By me. I killed them with my needs. I don’t want to be needy but I want to be seen. You see who I am is not who I claim to be. My face is hidden by a painting of blue sky’s and waves. I carry every hurt, truth, and lie I have ever told on my shoulders. I’ve cried so many time saying, “It’s over.” I don’t know this God in whom I believe. I don’t know these people to whom I cleave. I’m lost in the winter storm. Cold and alone, I slip on the ice with every step. The ice sinks into my heart as I feel it growing colder. It’s like a stone. And when it breaks, there will be no putting it back together. I can’t pretend anymore. I’m nothing like me. I’m a stranger in my own body. It’s like someone rapes my mind and takes over every time I talk. The truth only comes out when I scream. If living a lie is a sin, then baby I’m danceing with the devil. Please save me from this bad dream.