How am I not More?
The power to change my existence is mine.
Mindlessly moving, absent from the reality of whats going on around me.
I find myself more and more lost in my own mind.
Memories made are soon memories lost to dreams.
Wandering as a ghost among those living my life.
Why is everyone so sad, so angry, so alone?
The hate, the pain, the deception......
Would it change if my heart could beat, could feel, could love?
How am I not More?
The will to change my existence isn't mine.
The faces that stare, cold and without souls.....
only mirroring what lies just under my skin.
I have seen you many times before.
I have closed my eyes and wished you away.
I have fallen too many times from the weight of your critical judgment.
Escaping the monster lingering only a breath away....
This chill I feel isn't winter, but still it burns my throat.
How am I not More?
The fate of my existence is doomed.
Fatalistic, malcontent, aggressive, bossy, angry...
Just words, not labels, just words, not meant, just words.
Breathe, Smile, Laugh, walk away...
Never let them see the real you
Nobody can handle your real face, all scarred and bleeding.
The gaping hole where your heart belongs
No longer able to disguise or hide the husk of ravaged flesh you've become.
How was I not More?
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1 comment:
I read this just after I sent a text of my own saying, 'the world continues as I flounder about'. Of course now I'm all tears and snot, but your words and writings tend to do that. They make us feel all the feelings.
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