Suffering

The inevitable occurrences in life seem to be the events that hurt us the most. And the more I witness day by day, the more pain I lie in at night. I want this "God" to be an outlet, but I am incapable of grasping any sort of belief. I want to be able to smile because I'm alive, instead i cringe at the thought of another day. I want to love and be loved, but fear overwhelms these possibilities. The tears that have seeped into my pillow tell a tale more memorable than the nightly bedtime stories my mother could recite with ease. I cannot erase it. I cannot forget. But I dwell & let it captivate me. As if my insecurities are a weight pressing on my chest. Merely letting up, allowing a minuscule amount to air through, to keep me alive, suffering.