Where is My Life?

Fed up with my patience
turning to my conscience
trashing around the bay
without knowing what to say


Everybody telling me the story
wishing for all the glory
in my life to be perfect
however I am away causing a conflict
crying in vain
feeling my tears drain
closing my eyes from the lecture
dizzy from this torture


Wanting to be left alone
biting my skin down to the bone
trumbling with anger
risking the edge towards the danger


Lost in the words of the sea
not letting me to be free
trying to make me do what I don't want to do
they don't get my clue


They are trying to make me crack
by putting me in the sack
trapped because I won't break down
digging into my soul to the ground
letting me drown in my blood
creating an emotional flood


Stealing my misery in space
not wanting to look at my own face
sorrow has reached my eye
listening to my heart cry
crawling away in gravel
hoping that the tension unravel


Depressed most of the time
increasing the thoughts in my mind
alone in the darkness with a knife
Where is my life?


Written in 2002.
I wouldn't say I was being suicidal... overdramatic, but not suicidal. At the time, I was around 21 years old and still wasn't driving. My whole family was flabbergasted to put it kindly. They had all gotten their licenses when they were 15, 16 years old and here I was, 21 and no license. Unlike them, I just did not want to drive. I was scared. I was, and still is, the only one who lived near busy streets and those are not easy to practice on! The rest of them were raised and lived in areas that were quiet, residential. Plus, a guy that I had a massive crush on died in a car accident when he was 17 (I was 16) so that really put a damper on driving. It took me until I was 22 to finally get a license. I like going at my own speed and apparently my own speed never impress my family's qualifications. I suppose it's safe to say that I am the black sheep of my family? The weirdo.