Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jul 2019
With white knuckles wrapped round a wheel
, while I start to steer in a senseless stupor
, so I slowly startΒ Β to sink into my subconscious mind.

There I find I'm So sick of silence, that
In a demented dance with my own demons
I ask them why I won't let go of what once was.

"You drink the poison with a passion
, blurring the lines of punishment and pain
So only self hate can remain"

So secretly I shun what I wish to say so
the vestiges ofΒ Β my valour can rot away in vain,
Like the living corpse that's left with
long lasting lashes as battle scars
I bare as a badge for the broken.

So in fear I flee the tormenting truth
That I now have to hear
As soon it is clear
My own web of lies led me down a road
of Slow and Selfish Demise.
This is the voice of regret acting in ones head when a person is blinded by all that makes them flawed and imperfect, instead of focusing on the good. This is insecurities personified as demented voices that demand you punish yourself.
William de klerk
Written by
William de klerk  18/M/South Africa
(18/M/South Africa)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems