Does it matter? The endless mind numbing chatter. The inner dialogue running until you’re frozen.
I’m slowly falling apart. From the inside out.
Pieces are falling off.
I’m a shambling, bleeding mess. Shuffling towards something I don’t know.
Am I wrong, for trying to feel?
The blood just pours.
Am I wrong for wanting truth, for wanting the genuine article?
I want to let go of the pain. But it follows. Stalking me from the gallows.
There’s so much beauty. But I’m drowning in terror, in black claws, perforating my lungs, my tears, my voice, only a hair’s breadth away.
And I am lost while I am falling and fighting and drowning.
I’ll make more of it than it really is. Then I’ll strip it away. The glass won’t break but the plastic is molding.
Is it funny? That I’m screaming as its burning. Yet I won’t step back from the fire.
It’s good for me, I sob.
Who am I?
Sticky notes I can’t find. Pens keep running out of ink. Letters crumpled in the corner.
The advantage is soaking.
The sorrow tastes like sweet beauty. Something I can embrace.
Is it okay to be like this?
Yes! I finally scream, voice breaking, the emptiness staring me mute.
The dust hid it. I lost the broom.
Can I just keep the delusion?
And it swells until it destroys the whole point.
The whispers can’t hear me. They keep creeping past, leaving the candles lit.
I know its new. But I can’t find the ticket. And the roof fell in.
Its waiting in the box but I can’t seem to take it out, to save myself.
Nothing sturdy. I can’t put life here. It’ll shatter.
Sometimes the best thing to do is let go, come back tomorrow, and try again.
The spine is well worn. The pages are empty.
Can I, please?
Just take my time.
I won’t stay if this keeps up. I’ve only got so much pulse.
It’s not really numbing. You’ll regret that.
And I’m so tired. Its worn me down.
The tendrils slip right in and rip it all out.
I’m finding part of me in this divide.
Beneath the glitter
Beneath the paint
I found the sinner
I found the saint.
I found your soul
I spat it out
It fixed my faith
It fixed my doubt.
I’m surprised I’ve lasted this long. Sometimes the flame doesn’t realize the heat’s gone.
I found the door
I can’t stay here, anymore.
It took my present
It took my past
I took a breath
It took my last.
You’re not lucky
I find it best
To remember the truth
I’m here, I’m blessed.
Correct me if I’m wrong
You’ll correct me if I’m right
I’m really very tired
Of circling this same old fight.
I’d like to pause with a smile. But I find I’m merely content.
By Daphne Shadows