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The Man I Was
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2006-07 Poems The blood drips slowly from the knife,
The deathly white hand,
Keeps a tight grip.
As the blood drips slowly down.
A cut in his shirt,
The red grows,
As the man starts to laugh.
He slowly looks down,
Laughing as his life drips away,
On the now crimson floor.
He looks to the door.
His hearbeat slows,
But his mind is thinking fast.
Wishes he could have been like the rest.
Not failed the test,
Did his best.
But as in the past,
He failed at last.
Couldn't hold their hand in Public,
Coulnd't even hold it infront of his friends.
The all hated him for it,
Hates himself for being so weak.
He failed at being the one,
The one and only.
So afraid to rely on someone else,
Yet craves the contact.
Afraid to be tied down,
Waiting for the boredom to set in.
Eight months of hell,
A hell of my own doing,
The rope slowly draining my breath.
Life dripping on the floor.
The scars from their knives,
The life they drained,
Bled me dry.
Gave them my love,
My heart in their hands,
Drove the stake thought it.
Watch him contort in the pain,
Leaving him to die on the crimson floor,
He always returned for more.
Afraid to go back again,
Wishes he could be whats expected,
Fit the mold,
be the perfect guy,
Do what I'm told.
Live up to the expectations.
Instead I bleed tears, sweat, and blood.
Covered in their scars,
Running from feeling,
To timid to voice concerns,
To scared to admit the feeling.
To afraid to get them upset.
To much like the man I always was.
