Life Is Death

There is this rotting pain, deep in my stomach. Churning, burning, fuming...disgusting. I feel hurt. I feel hate. I feel...to much. I feel numb.
The memories burned in to the back of my eye lids that haunt me in my sleep. But darkness fills my days. My mind can't make sense of it all, sadly, my body does. The reactions of actions taken so long ago, or maybe not that long ago.
Some children were killed today. By a very broken person. They morn for the children. I can see why. I wish I could be one of them...so I would have to deal with the shit I've been through. So I could be set free. But yeah, morn for them. I suppose I do. Innocence lost. Souls who watched, burdened, forever, Stained. This society doesn't care enough about the things that could help this...no we talk about guns and rights. That man had a right. Not to kill. Not to hurt. That is never a right. Taking a life is a heavy burden, any one who can so willing rip life away, well, there are consequences for them.
Life should be seen as precious. He was broken, and not enough was done to save that man...who could have saved all those children...
But what does this society care about other peoples "issues". Nothing, right?
Mental health is a big deal. But we don't make it that. Violence. We accept it, unless it happens in real life or to us. We are a sick country. It isn't about the guns. It isn't about our rights. It is about our communities and our health. Two things that have slid dip into the ditch where no one cares to look or dig it up out of. This will continue to happen. People will die in awful ways.
People will kill themselves.
People will treat others like shit.
Because...we have lost our morals.
We have lost it all.
Because we are not as caring a community as we claim. Or today wouldn't have happened. Stress is a killer, and it doesn't care who it takes down or how many. Evil lurks in the sweetest of places.
Those of us who have to sit and morn alone, for the prices we've had to pay for evil, for the crimes silently made against us. The nation will never know. They will never, ever care. If anything I suffer more because, why, well it isn't ever simple. Wicked people are broken people. People society pushes aside, ignores them and hopes they will go away.
You as a society created this. and you know it.
There are worse things that happen every day and we can't scream loud enough for anyone to care, especially never morn, for the things we have lost and will never, ever get back.
I am a sad lonely creature who will probably die alone. But so what. No one will morn for me.
Something I am to slowly coming to terms with.
I once was so in love with love, and service and hope, and joy, and life....but they stole that and now I seem nothing more then an old bitter crone....so sad,