I am just like you are
Or pretend to be
Do you do this too?
Are you just like me?

Repressing ourselves
To impress one another
A regress of mirrors
Reflecting each other

compared to the past
it all seems so tame
now I can see the path
and the monsters have names

I looked fear in the eye
and I walked away
I have seen darker days
why should I be afraid?

I felt like I was drowning
a well in my head
something wanted me dead
and I said
not today

though sometimes I still say
I can't cope anymore
I have been there before
there is always a way

I don't want to miss you
it hurts to stay silent
but I hold my tongue
and pretend to be strong

I wish you would speak to me
even one word
but we both know one word
wouldn't hold me that long

a world full of lovers
who want me to love them
cannot understand what I need
but you do

a whole sky full of stars
and you paint it all blue
who could let me forget
there is no one like you

when you submit poems
and they don't go through
‧͙⁺˚･༓. check your drafts .༓･˚⁺‧͙
that's usually where they get sent

otherwise I can't tell you where they went
which is most likely very frustrating for you

all the rage I could engage
has never made me strong

and all the shame at being strange
has not made me belong

all my fear of bombardiers
has not resolved their quarrels

and all the guilt that I have felt
has not made me more moral

what was the point of all that pain?
it didn't fix a thing

I can't take back the past
but now I can take back the reins

time to stop spiraling
self sabotaging
second guessing

after years of cruel punishment
I've finally learned my lesson

I wish I knew
how to deal with it all

the pain and confusion
behind all my walls

echoes on echoes
of unburied guilt

rewinding my mind
to the heart
to the hilt

crushing my soul
deeper than any nerve

a torment I still tell myself
I deserve

I see the truth
through a kaleidoscope

I'll refract it all back
I will not give up hope

I've fallen out of love
and now I don't have much to say
I think a little writer's block
is better than that pain

the pareidolia transforms
into another pattern
and signs that used to point to you
now do not seem to matter

though this is not to say
it's always so easy to cope
I really feel the cold
without the false heat of false hope

but now my eyes are open
to the way I truly feel
and I can put my hope into
a search for something real