A morning of being fed up.

A new strange morning is being lifted. More people awake, off to do what billions have done for this country in the past. A new morning of worry as my hands tremble, my throat releases a motion so foul, my stomach turns and turns. My mind is tired yet once again I am thoughtful. Wondering what has taken hold of my body, wondering what is it that has grasped my insides with such tightness that it seems as if it will never let go. I still wonder why I have to feel this way, every day, fearing of the reality of living with it forever. Sometimes I wonder if I am nuts, if my mind is creating these illusions of illness, but yet they keep coming, stronger than ever, interfering with my life, causing me to break inside. I thought it would be gone by now, I thought my body would keep its word and release it from the pits of the hell it has brung me. I was fine God, I was fine for so long, why again? This isn't funny anymore, this isn't just something that is wrong anymore, there is more to this and that is what I fear. How can something such as this interfere with my way of life, my way of thinking, making me fearful of taking the last bite. I've asked you so many times before God, take it away, take away all of it, please I beg you. I've had it up to here, I can live this way anymore. Can none of us have a normal life? I have tried to be good, I have tried to learn, to keep myself down, and yet you keep pushing for me to drown. What good will come out of it? Why am I wasting my time talking about it? This seems like something so simple, something so clear, but I can't do it no more God, please no more, please I beg you once more.
I am on my way to work, just like everyone else, I need to make money, to pay for my bills, to get good credit so I can get a beautiful home, a dog, and 3 kids. I can't have this in the way of that dream, I feel so sick, every single day, for too long God for too long. I'm tired of the stares, I'm tired of people asking me if I'm ok, I just want it to fucking end, today. All the gagging, the vomiting, the shitting, what else can you fucking throw at me? What else do you have to take from me? My only love, my mother, and now my health? Why God, just stop, please stop, make it all go away, I'm sorry for all I've done wrong, I've tried my best, all I want to do is lead a normal life, with my family too. We are a good family God, we have all our faults, we have our mistakes, but look at us God, we are holding our heads up high, still praying to you in the sky. If you can't do it for me do it for my family, please something, anything, we need a damn break. Maybe that's what makes me sick, all of this going on and on, without anybody to help us. There is no way to cure a broken heart, there is no way to cure a lost mother, there is no way to cure an illness so stealthy.
I hope you have listened to our prayers God, that is all I ask in the long run.

Random Poetry

The words echo in my head, they keep telling me what is right and wrong, but when I really need them they stop instead.
My heart aches for a certain clarity, hoping that one day everything I am working for does not end up in catastrophe.
I wake up to a new set of words every morning, a new set of awkwardness that has followed me when I first started learning.
About what I ask myself day in and day out, my mind is still seeing, still teaching itself not to surrender in the first bout.
The first round of life, the second I have yet to discover, and the transition between them have made me wonder.
What to believe in anymore, what to hold on to anymore, how sure can you be that what you are fighting for is yours for sure.
I see so much now that was blind to me before, the people I pass by sing a different tune to my ear, the words scramble a thought so unclear that has me beaten to my core.
How fair is this place, when death is so near yet so far, a life so short a life as delicate as lace.
Love is not a puzzle but a clarity so rare, the teardrops flow from the heart as if it had a tear.
How can our minds be so strong, our hearts so soft, our thoughts so long.
How do we decipher these words that we hear, how do we interpret why someone has put us here.
I think these things, all day, all night, and every time I have to light a new light.
For the old one has burned out, the words have no meaning, no end, and none of them you can shout.
So what do I see when I see the future and what it could be, the future is never there for me, because like the stars and the people I can only do what I see and by then the future will be what it should be.