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Pieces of me

Pieces of me

thrown away

like trash

Never consulted

Never asked

The direct result

of another’s conviction

or more commonly seen

consequences

from blind ambition

 

Paranoid

The fix is in

But no invitation

for me,

former me

or forever me

and all of my imitations

beset by my

limitations

 

Forwardly I lean

step in between

lines upon lines

hidden;

can’t be seen

Falling ill

Now trapped

by its machine

And from my vein;

My blood I spill

 

A still surface

with sticky sheen

amber tones

from which

I glean

a reason

Thrilled

What it might mean

A hunger

that

can not be filled

 

Nothing but lies

giving me chills

A shell

with values

not instilled

Instead

it’s dread

Their words

I’m fed

"Nutrients"

to fill my head

 

My outer skin

Its layer

thin

Not to attacks

No single act

or prayer

could patch

and fill it in

A hole

that’s black

is my first sin

 

A game

in which

no way to win

and no ending

once it

begins

With opened eyes

commence to see

The dorsal fins

surrounding me

 

Head starts

to spin

What could have been?

It doesn't matter

in the end

because

there's nothing

here for me

A demon-like reality

 

Where what you seek

Placed at your feet

The icing; sweet

Choices; not three

Have cake or eat

One choice not two

But want to eat

and have it too

 

All efforts

to retrieve the treat;

An outcome that

ends in defeat

A princess swept

off of her feat

But this feature

princess;

a creature

Spirit of

a soulless seeker

 

Deceitful speaker

Flames;

he’ll eat ya

Offers pain

Can’t heal;

life drained

Then reaching out

to use

life-line

but with each ring

hope further wanes

 

An answered call

done just in time

The chills

running all down my spine

Stand tall

just like Douglas-fir pine

With racing thoughts

filling my mind

I will be saved

Free from it all

God must exist

No time to stall

In battle

warriors

may fall

but no man's ever left behind

 

Only to find

With said spent dime

A dynamite kind of answer

-

A type

that might

cause strife

Can't plan for

Needed answer

Plight

like cancer

New chance to live

Worldly romancer

On planet Earth

A tiny dancer

 

A romantic thought

to think

fight fought

Instead a sinking ship

just dropped

This life?

If could

an ‘OUT’

would opt

No more

can take

Just make

it stop

Request permission to use this poem
Written by
micrography-mike-d
48 / M / Massachusetts
Published
Aug 24, 2018
Lines·Words
155·408
Notes

Written: April 17, 2018

All rights reserved.

Tags
#when#depressions#darkness#comes#rage#against#the#dying#ofthe#light
Permission

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