Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
I’m hiding,
Yes, I’m hiding,
Been locked in here for twenty, maybe more,
Trying to fix the mess that I carry to the core.
Everyone’s in the living room,
Laughing, dancing to some happy tune.
But me?
I’m stuck in this silent space,
A crowded house, but I’m lost in my own place.

I’m trapped in this maze, my mind’s own maze,
A prisoner of these long, lonely days.
Silent screams that no one hears,
Louder than the laughter just beyond here.
I’m here, but I’m gone, present but erased,
A crowded house, but I’ve lost my place.

They’ve shown me love, or so they claim,
But behind my back, I hear my name.
Whispers slither like snakes through the cracks,
I know they act, just keeping me intact.
They smile wide, but their eyes are dry,
Maybe they care, or they don’t—but it’s all a lie.

Knock Knock
“Hey, you alright?”
“Erm, I’ll be out soon, give me a sec, it’s alright…”

But is it really?
‘Cause I’m tired, truly tired,
Of fighting fires and battling demons dancing in my head,
Of faking smiles when I feel dead.
Every relationship falls like the one before,
Each one shattered my heart like glass.
I’ve given all, there’s nothing left to give,
Now, I just exist, but don’t know how to live.

They think I’m fine, that I’m still the same,
The happy boy, the bright-eyed flame.
The one who danced, who laughed, who shone,
Who carried the weight of the world like it was his own.
But the truth is, now, I’m shattered, split, and splintered,
Like a mirror that has been dropped,
And every time I pick it up, the pieces never lock.
Once a sunbeam, now just smoke,
A fading laugh, a forgotten joke.

See, I used to be the boy who bubbled with joy,
Now I’m the man that misery employs.
I’m the punchline to jokes never told,
I’m the shadow that hides in the bold.
I used to shine, used to soar,
Now I’m just trying to survive the war.
Bright smiles buried beneath the grime,
The clock keeps ticking, but I’m out of time.

They’re waiting for me to come cut the cake,
But how can I slice when it’s all just fake?
I’m hiding in here, plotting an escape,
Maybe I’ll slip through that window, leave no trace,
Run to a place I’ve never known,
But even there, this weight’s my own.

What do I want? I don’t even know,
Love? Maybe? But trust? It won’t grow.
It’s like carrying mountains on my back,
All this baggage from scars.

Knock Knock
“You coming out?”
Yeah… I guess I’ll go out.
Put on the smiley mask.

Open the door,
And I shout—
“Heeeyyyy! Let’s turn it up, let’s shout!”
They cheer, they dance, think I’m alright,
But in this mask, I’m not here.
Pagan Paul Dec 2016
.
An Echo* asks “where have you been?”
and my reply is heart and truth.

I have thought of you for centuries,
I have conceived of you for millennia,
Patiently building you for aeons,
and I have died for you every second.

For I sit frozen in my cave of sorrow,
wrapped in a blanket of burning ice.
Constructing you in my waiting dreams,
a raging fire in the coldest of prisons.

That is where I have always been,
where I am, and will forever be.
Until the hour you step beyond fear
and the moment you look at me.


© Pagan Paul (16/12/16)
*Echo - the nymph spurned by Narcissus when he fell in love with his own reflection. Echo is celebrated in my short poem 'Wood Nymph Blues'. I've always felt for her.
PPx
This poem is really about emotional isolation.

— The End —