This is not a poem, it is an outcry.
A friend, a mentor, a shield, that's what she was.
Now, i feel i am under scrutiny under her gaze.
No longer a friend but a foe, how did that happen?
I wish it was because of something real, but no, it is not.
Its about ego, mine, hers and everyone's.
When did we (i) become so self centered?
Now, i let go of whatever it was that was causing this.
I want to be free, and free indeed.
From my bitter self, from my other half.

Its not always easy to tell you i love you,
but yes, i do

its not always easy to reach out to you,
but i would love to try
and yes, i do

its not always easy to say i am sorry,
the words never come out right
try as i might
at least i try
am sorry

The murderer in me is suffocating,
The strength in his grip is overwhelming,
There is an urgency to his cries.

His whispers are disguised poison,
Sweet to the tongue but bitter to the soul,
He knocks ever so lightly,
But just enough to alarm calm me.

I have no where to hide,
Outward is too bare to the world,
Yet inward is too crowded for my own liking,
Where shall I hide you,
If not bury you deeper?

If everyone has a problem with you,
Then you are the problem, they say,
I wish he understood that.

A young body
with the eyes of an adult
pristine arms
with adulterated hands
so long innocence
so long childhood

all he will ever know
is a life of work, work and more work
speak to his soul
and you will find an aged man
so long innocence
*so long childhood

I can't be ALL bad
SOME part of me is good
if not, the most part.

Thing is, you DON'T know me
if you did, you would see
how precious i am.

The problem is not with me
but with you, all the time
i am RIGHT.

STOP judging me for what you don't know
all you have to do is understand me
i am never wrong.

How i wish you would just to know the real me.