Dear Reader,

Shut your eyes to the world, but open them wide for my thoughts.
Stop allowing the background noise to interfere.
Channel my voice.
Read this poem alone.

          I’ve been echoing the same message. I’ve been screaming for someone to catch me as I am falling, and it still hasn’t happened. It’s true what they say, “you are your own worse enemy“. If you feel like your alright now….you’re not.

          I am the best at mental hide-n-go-seek, because I’ve been lost inside my mind for years now. No one has found me and I wonder sometimes if anyone is even looking. Would they know what or who to look for? — I’ve tricked myself, I set a trap and I fell for it. I fell forward into a sea of misunderstandings, and now I’m drowning.
No wonder I Love the beach…

          I have convinced myself I was happy, because Love had found me. Now I feel as though it is a facade and I am witnessing it deteriorating…right-in-front-of-my-face.

          Everyone is acting as enemies, but to their convince they shape up and play for the same team. They yell, curse, presuade, manipulate, downsize, lack faith…What they don’t know is I’ve already beaten them to it. I’ve been doing this to myself all these years, no wonder the real me is hiding.

 

Don’t stop reading yet…

I need someone to vent to.

 

          Writing is all I got, even though people have the ability to read they still don’t understand my lingo. I wonder do you understand my message? When you read this do you see a motion picture taking place in your head? Can you see me stressing, running out of ways to keep my sanity?!

Picture this: Imagine me in a room, locked door, and sealed windows. Laying on an air-mattress, floating in a pool of ink. Forever laying in a bed without the ability to sleep. IM SUPPOSE TO BE HAPPY. Supposedly that’s what everyone wants for me. I don’t see that shit though, their double standards are about as consistent as when the wind blows. I suppose some of a little bit is true.

          I’ll just remain being happy under everyone’s conditions; I dont know how they didnt pick up on it. All my poems are little clues. At least one person picked up on em, but he pushes me away too. Then again I am he, and he is me…so I guess in an essence it’s just me hiding from myself again. I don’t know when he’ll realize that he is my reflection, or that whenever any type of stress is present, we’re both in pain.

          I’ve learned this Love is serious, and every time an obstacle presented its self we got through it. We celebrated, after the 5min party, we retreat back into the darkness. Day light savings, we fall back, so the light doesnt remain long.

          Basically, what the fuck I am trying to say is, my mind is a Jail. I am stuck, no bail. Handcuffed to the bars of my cell, so i turned my phone off. I dont want any visitors.

 

…That’s all I guess, this piece was pretty pointless. I hope my words provided pictures. So when you see me smile, you know its not genuine. These poems are all tears from when I cry..A cry for help, to find myself inside my mind.

          Hopefully when you took this glance throughout my thought process. You got a little glimpse of the lost Candace, and you can tell me where to look next.

–Leighrick