Author Information
Internal Sadist
Brave faces, worn like armor from the knights of old,
Protecting this vessel from all but what is true and cold.
The nightmare in my lullaby is the reality in which I lay,
Dancing with fabricated conceptions, while the truth is unable to play.
Cryptic eyes can decipher the most puzzled of hearts,
Yet remain confused before the lying even starts.
The tighter the embrace, the looser the emotional ties,
Comforting a lie in order to neglect what I truly realize.
Once the limits have been breached I get what I crave,
Only to be left unsatisfied with my own dug grave.
Pushing away what I feel is my only solution,
Left with nothing but unanswered questions, collecting like pollution.
The cost of happiness is nothing more than a simply try,
Yet no matter how little the cost my pockets always seem dry.
Like an architect of misery I design my own pain,
Left alone constantly afraid of what I was able to gain.
Trying to understand what I’ll never know,
How many more potential attempts will I watch come and go?
Brutal yet beautiful..............
I was just about to log off and saw your post and the opening 6 lines that were revealed on the hope page caught my eye. I viewed the full post and was rivited. I had to comment. Exceptional talent. Write through all that ugliness you feel cause eventually you get to the deep beauty within and that is when the writing gets really good. I too started out writing poetry as a way to clean up the mess I felt I had inside and eventually the mess was taken care of and I could enjoy this amazing home I had inside myself that was far lovelier than the world could ever hope to see into from the outside. writing out your pain and feelings of frustration and distrust and confusion is amazing self therapy. Take it from someone who knows. I'd not lead you astray on this point. It's too important to share. Anyway, just wanted to say I really and truly enjoyed what you crafted. Stellar piece. please keep sharing......... sincerely, Melissa Lundeen..............
Thank you, that means a lot
Thank you, that means a lot
The only problem with the story carved on your chest, is its hard to read when your missing your ribs..