A look inside a normal mind. |
I may not be a poet but I write poetry whether it goes with a melody or it's a sweet soliloquy I do it. I do it to release the pain caught inside a crazy brain of a lonely stain on this earth and since my life is messed up inside I'd cash my first check for a re-birth and die, a young man so I don't have to stand for these troubles that struggle and quake beneath my interior bubble. I've been messed up since I could grow a stubble. In the parking lot where recess took place I used to be the fat kid that the kids used to pick up the sticks and chase. In that case, my mind has been cut by the knife of verbal abuse and the sting of hate, which I call lemon juice. Now mix that with an open wound and you get the first ingredient of the recipe of me. Confused about what to do with myself I flow with unknown feelings felt. My mind is reaching out to galaxies too far for the man on the moon, Wishing for something to come sooner, but it didn't come soon. Enough has been said about the losses in life and the pains it comes with. And I believed and eventually fell into the mist where I reappeared as a sob story within a myth Where my heart has been broken since the birthday of my 5th. Right now, time is passing too slow for one good reason. A reason I thought was a reason to live. Until my internal loneliness caught on fire again, heart being burned more than once by the same flame. The flame of want for Fame with a Known Name. The flame of want for one Name. The flame, which water cannot tame. Now, your life may have troubles but they will never be the same as my Internal Struggles because everytime I think of that one good reason my loneliness and happiness doubles. Which equals, confused as Hell. Like the person who came up with the phrase "Don't Kiss, Don't Tell". And every morning I wake up in a Hell of wondering smothering my beliefs and dreams until my face goes numb and I only see streams of light cutting off my circulation and I'm turning purple not putting up a fight. Maybe what I'm doing is not worth the risks I am willing to take Maybe what I thought was real is now fake. So, as I sit here in this lonely room filled with neglect steaming off my neglected body. I now know that the tattoo permanently soaked into my skin is just another baby step to my ultimate win. Thank you. |