Pointless Tears

"Pointless tears" they tell me

As my heart is ripped to shreds

Inspiring my will to live

To slowly leave my body

I suppose that is the danger

Of sharing my soul with people

Giving them the opportunity

To see the depths of my character, the essence of my person

And to tell me at my deepest level

I am childish and stupid

But of course the only one

Whose ever told me that is yours truly

And all the negativity

Comes from people's reactions

And the way I perceive them

All my idealism, cynicism, and paranoia

Have left me begging on my knees for mercy

From the imaginary criticism of everyone surrounding me

I'm either lacking a self esteem

Or my ego's overgrown

For reasons unbeknownst to me

I have no in-between

Either arrogance or self hate

There is no middle ground and no happy medium

I am never satisfied

Not with friendship, not with life

Why can't I be content?

I don't even know what it is I want or what I think I need

But something's missing, unless I'm imagining that too

And mistaking for righteous searching

What can only be called greed

What on earth is wrong with me?

The doctors say its my endocrinology

My parents say its my lack of maturity

The psychologist blames my attitude

And the pastor says I'm missing God

But how can that be?

We hold daily conversations

Although they seem rather one-sided

When I can't hear the reply

And I feel empty and lonely

But a friend is not enough

I crave something more intimate

Someone who knows my heart inside and out

And who will never abandon me

Or be too busy with someone else

The pastor nudges me and says,

"You know, God is all those things."

So I've heard, and so I've learned

But the question is,

Do I believe in Him?

How can you prove that someone's safe to lean on

That they're walking by your side and working in your life

When you can't touch or see them?

I can't talk to God like a man

But I can't tale to a man like he's God

For that's the quickest path to disappointment

And disappointment is a dreadful thing

Obsession with anything less than perfection

Obsession with anything not omnipotent and omnipresent

Can't possibly be satisfying

Idols are self destructive to the worshipper

Yet I continue to be drawn to them

Ride a high of unreturned obsession

Until it crashes, ending in depression

And perfectly avoidable, pointless tears