Chapter 2: Another Bad Angry Day

What did I do wrong? Why does my life always get f**d over? Why is it that all my dreams always fall to pieces? ....All these thoughts ran rapidly through my head as the glass bottle containing my special dried flowers crashed to the floor of my bedroom.

Memories can be good things, and sometimes when it's over they are all you have left. I was blessed with an extremely vivid memory which I am grateful for, but every time the glass shatters I remember what I lost over 10 years ago, all the times the glass has shattered and all the struggles of faith that the sun will shine again for me. I get angry because all I can seem to think of are the times I had everything, but was too blind to see it, and how it was taken from me, and now at times I feel I have nothing.

This clearly is a bad angry day. There are a lot of these when you are in my situation.

To Be Anyone but Me

A Childhood Cancer Survivor Poem

© 2016 Christine Mulvihill

Look at me, I seem a rather happy child
With a life of things tender and mild
A life where there is no need for lies
A life in which she rarely cries.

How stereotypical of you my friend
My life is quite different from beginning to end
Much worse than just petty remorse and guilt
Depression covers my days like a fitted quilt
It makes the slightest drop overflow my cup
I'm forever looking down, not up.

Even my smile can't disguise
Those refuge tears in my eyes
Take a look inside my heart
And you'll see my life has fallen apart.

Friends I have many but they can't see
What kind of pain lies inside of me
They want me to be happy, they even coax
Hell they even laugh at most of my jokes,
But that's not all a friend is for
Call me greedy but I need more,
I need people who actually want me there
I need to know they really care.

I need someone who'll be there before the tears run down my cheeks
Someone who won't continue ignoring me for the next few weeks
But when I'm being the only person I know how
To a life like this I should say chow
Because I'm not pretty and popular like everyone I know
Me and all those things simply don't go
For this reason I hate popularity and I hate wealth
But most of all I hate myself.

I can't be someone I'm not
I could keep trying until I rot
The only person who brought this on me was me
If only I'd been me and not the person I was pretending to be

I hope everyone else knows how lucky they are
Because they are their own shining star,
They don't have a curse hanging over their head
Wishing they had died in that hospital bed,
Each day brings a new disappointment a new problem without a solution
When will this continuous circle come to a conclusion.

Everyone else would be happy to be you
I'd be happy to be you too
I'd give up anything to be happy again
To know what it is to have a true friend.

So while I'm stuck in a Pandora's box without a door
Happy to be rich be happy to be poor,
Happy to taste touch feel and see
But most of all be happy to be anyone but me

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My Soul

A Childhood Cancer Survivor Poem
© 2016 Christine Mulvihill

My soul is a deep dark bottomless well
A place where all my thoughts dwell
Walk across the bridge of gloom
Find the place where bad things bloom.

Thoughts of revenge & torture, thoughts of pain
Thoughts that would make the normal insane
Tiptoe the tight rope across the well
But if you fall in the bottom you’ll find hell.

Take the plunge, now it’s your turn,
feel the terror fell it burn
Like boiling water pouring down your back
A heart of gold is something I lack.

My soul is like fire, violent and warm
Like Nathalie Imbruglia I feel torn,
ripped apart at the seams
Head filled with bad dreams
And thoughts and wonders all forsaken
No one to love for my heart has been taken.

But since you’re here stay a while
you won’t have fun, but I can make you smile,
and laugh at all you are afraid to face
This is my soul, an unnerving place.

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Other poems of interest for Another Bad Angry Day:

I’ve Changed So MuchLife is One Tough Pill to Swallow

Return to the Table of Contents

Chapter 3: The Short Sad Life of an Angel