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Rated: ASR · Poetry · Psychology · #1493131
A poem about who I become when I play and how I struggle to control the adrenaline
You gave me wings
A sick joke when you left me caged
Bitter, twisted and now enraged
At the height of genius, but filled with lies
Lies created to teach me

Ask the wrong questions!
Now I cry, my knowledge is not worthless
Unless my voice is broken
But broken it is
Much like my mind

Silence is never used
When you speak to yourself
Things are different now
The world is smaller
I care less

The people around me, ignore me
I don’t blame them
But he won’t let them
Did they expect me to roll over?
Does it matter what they expect?

I am tired, but I won’t sleep
There is to much adrenaline
It cracks me!
He is then free to wreak havoc
And I am forever chained to sunlight, I cannot feel

He basks in the moonlight
And drinks to the victory, and the spoils of war
While I live on the money, he leaves in the drawer
The world is now smaller
It fits in my head

I feel cleverer, but I know I have no control
I feel happier, but empty
I’m not angry, but I am furious
I’m weak, NO!
I am just a mask

I wear him
He is a crimson mask
And a voice in my head
Telling me one day he will take over
One day he will be me

I am becoming him
The crimson mask speaks now through me
Redder than the hearts I show
And darker than the spades I conceal
Nothing I cared about was ever real

Through showing me this
He’s proved my days are numbered
I wear him no more
He now wears me
Wears me thin!
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