Just like many people,
It's painful for me to look inside,
but yet it comes to me as second nature,
Past so cruel, chewing on my mind,
Like wild coyotes on the weak flesh of chicken.
I look behind me so far it feels like the distance
should take hours to walk,
but if I simply reach out my hand,
I can easily touch it, embrace it, and reject it.
I want to act like that was not me,
but there is nothing that possessed my feet,
to walk in that direction,
that direction that fades into dark like a movie scene.
My past works me like a seductress,
Curling my own finger until I give in and embrace them.
I always look, and I always see me, remember that it's me,
but I always come to a nice little realization,
I am me,
I've changed from then,
ways no longer remained the same,
just like so many people, I changed,
but it's painful to look away,
And it comes to me like first nature.
I constantly compare,
hearing the thoughts that belong to me and myself
dark torturous thoughts,
****, violence, ******, intricate torture, Shameful acts that should not be spoken of.
.......calm, a need to calm, a present tense feeling that gives me control......
I often consider,
which side is more real,
and which one I should use to define me,
Which do the people close to me,
feel more comfortable with, though,
the answer to that comes quick.
But if I hide these thoughts,
these thoughts I force myself to believe are the past,
Such suppressed thoughts,
Which one becomes the hypocrite?
To hide a part of me and act like the opposite this "past",
to act like the opposite of me?
Or would it be hypocritical to act myself, the me I want to be,
and fight the rest of me to be?
I've written poems for a long time of my life, though I never felt comfortable showing people, and I've decided to finally post something and I might begin to post more. Take with this as you will.
