The Jackson Chronicles: The return from death

Song,

Return to Self Loathing: MEsT

Jackson sat back and studied what he had just written. HE always had a way of writing.

All he had to do was put his pen to his paper and the words seem to flow out. He never
really realized what he was writing until he was done.
Sighing he frowned, The words running through his pen tip were not a happy reminder for him.
THe day seemed to flash forward into his mind, A damp night
with nothing but the moon glowing from the water as he stared down into it,
Wondering what he was doing.

Sick of the way I am feeling.
Waking up watching myself slipping.
Should I just take out my eyes? No longer want them for this life.
Acting strong only on the outside.
Hiding shame and pain on the inside.
I've tried to block my mind of this and pretend is doesn't exist.

All the smiling and trying to keep from letting anyone know what was wrong, it was
taking its toll on him. The stress building on his shoulders as he was once again rejected.
He never thought it would bother him to have no one. Being through so many foster homes he got used to moving back and forth, covering the ache of being wanted by someone. But now he yearned for it. Not having anyone was tearing him apart he would end up like a hardened criminal like so many hes heard before.

Loosing my mind once again.
Stranding my thoughts (no matter what I said).
Sleepless nights staring at the ceiling.
Sanity running on empty.
Try to block my mind of this and pretend it doesn't exist.

He was laying in bed staring at the ceiling thoughts rolling through his head. He had to get away,
He got up and ran, he just ran and when he stopped he was there on the bridge staring through the darkness of the depth of water. Trying to see to the other side. Is it better then what is now.
NO answers emurged.

Loosing my mind once again.
Stranding my thoughts (no matter what I said).
Taken for granted again.

A small voice poked through his thoughts, breaking through. He blinked shaking his head for the first time realizing just exactly what he was doin. The small girl voice that claimed he was her hero. The little 6 year old with bouncing red blond curls holding him close telling him never to leave her. Her big blue eyes filling with water as her strenght slacken giving into the pain controlling her last breath. Her last wish for him to never let go. How could he forget his promise.

Stranding my thoughts no matter what I said
Loosing my mind again.
Stranded my thoughts no matter what I said.

He jumped down from the ledge and backed away the shock on his face confusing the few passers at that time. he wouldnt let this happen again no matter how hard life got for him.
Because of that little girl who never had a chance to even get past to the good part.

Loosing my mind once again.
Stranding my thoughts no matter what I said.

He closed the pad of paper and threw it in his drawer. He wasnt goin to turn it into a song. It was too much for him. He sighed, he wasnt goin to play his guitar today, so he layed back and fell asleep.