On hold

Brand new year yet it’s the same old unanswered prayer.

One step closer to meeting my maker.

Yet life’s meaning evades my grasp more so than yesterday.

I keep losing the will to live every single day.

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God, are you sadistic that you enjoy when I suffer?

You know everything about me, I’m so blunt I don’t stutter.

How cruel of you to withhold the smallest of my dreams.

You bless people who don’t even know you more than me, it seems.

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The more elusive success is, the more my faith will waver.

Am I supposed to be put on hold forever?

All this fatigue and hard work, are they merely excrement?

All my efforts in life, are they only to cause me resentment?

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A bitter and black heart, I wonder how it came to be?

Probably because nothing profoundly good has ever happened to me.

Is this how you treat children who are supposedly special to you?

I have no fulfillment, no matter what efforts I do.

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I drown in so many thoughts that I loathe waking up every morning.

Every night I wish for a relief of my life finally ending.

To hope is to expect and unmet expectations bring me pain.

The very reality of being alive is driving me insane.

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Suffering has far outweighed the little joys I sometimes achieve.

I thought I was numbed by sorrow, no – who am I trying to deceive?

How I wish to stop yearning, dreaming, planning and not attaining anything.

I feel insignificant enough to be fine with disappearing or dying.

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Copyright

Star Ashley Cruz

Jan. 7, 2026

Only you by the Platters (cover)

 

Withering

I envy people who are evidently loved and treasured.

Whereas I only exist to take care of others while pressured.

I pay for everything, do everything without help – I’m basically a slave.

They’re full of shit and oh so useless, the family that you gave.

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I wonder what it’s like to never work hard and still have everything?

These people, I can’t believe they have the audacity to consider anything boring.

Why do I even put on so much effort to survive a life I don’t even like?

Waking up to the reality of being alive is bad for my psyche.

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Finding the will to live is hard when you hardly have rest.

My life is only filled with challenges, like I always had to ace a test.

I wish survival mode had a pause button to actually enjoy anything.

Time flies by and all this toiling away left me old and withering.

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I’m not naïve, I’m fully aware of the cross I need to carry.

But please, how about a break? It’s just too many.

I know you love me but how about helping me achieve my dreams?

I can’t help envy people who achieve them effortlessly it seems!

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Floating in a sea of people, yet I feel alone.

Drowning in my thoughts, is this for my sins to atone?

Been searching and yearning for my life’s purpose and meaning

But all this just sapped the hope of my whole being.

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Copyright

Star Ashley Cruz

Oct. 4, 2025 

Living a cliché

I’m the clay who’s starting to doubt her potter.

More than half the year’s gone but there’s still problem after another.

Suffering is supposed to be temporary but mine’s coming perpetually.

Have I been selected to be in hell ever so early?

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Why, I thought you genuinely love me?

How come you don’t alleviate my constant misery?

My prayers, do they fall on deaf ears?

My hard work, do they mean nothing all these years?

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I’m doing more than I should, but nothing’s rewarding.

Everyday death as escape is what I’ve been yearning.

Can you please tell me, do you enjoy watching me suffer?

Have I no right to a happy ever after?

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When you come back, would you still be my master?

I can’t thrive in adversity, I’m actually losing faith faster.

Alone, always alone, carrying my cross and crushing my back.

Hope for tomorrow and my future, it’s now what I lack.

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My thoughts, my consciousness are drowning me somewhere too deep.

Lord, can you please grant me this: just kill me in my sleep.

It should be fine, I’ve been alone all this time so no one would care.

I’m living a cliché, my life is so unfair.

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Copyright

Star Ashley Cruz

Aug. 16, 2025

Washing machine heart by Mitski (cover)