and you wonder why your soul is dead inside.
she closets herself away from our sight
yet her ball has the brightest of glimmer
a shining created for sheer delight
how dare she hide her radiant shimmer
behind the obscure curtain of a shroud
she's disposed to making us cheerless
by not displaying outside the dull cloud
why oh why does she behave so joyless
her rays won't beam in an opulent glow
there she chooses to remain concealed
her petulant manner has gone on show
we await the hour she'll be revealed
look our sun has had a change of heart
she exhibits her brilliant orb so smart
Under this skin devoid of substance,
The days are a joyless existence.
Dispatch the sleeping pill,
Shelter me from ill will.
Slip away without resistance.
The familiar is all but lost
Relegated to monochromatic melancholy
This place holds no joy
Once soothing, now both dull and lifeless
This is not my happy place
This is not my comfort zone
This place holds no peace
Backed into a box of light gray
Don't speak, lest you be heard
Don't watch, lest you be seen
Don't care, lest you be hurt
This place holds no love
A hint of freedom long gone
An air of acceptance
Lured by what once was
This place holds remnants of a dream
i spend my days lying down, motionless
for hours, staring at this too familiar ceiling
i spend my days doing nothing, brought by
a crippling inability to speak what I mean
or do what I wish (on things that matter
most to myself)
i spend my days reacting to your slightest movement,
with a doll's passivity bordering on disgusting
i spend my days being a mere watcher, a witness
to the wonder of how beauty grows
you are a sight to behold
and it must be such joy to be held
but i'd rather spend my days lying down, motionless
trying **** hard to dream of you
(but only nightmares come through)
kind of referenced a small bit of stuff/lines that I really like.
I'm sure I heard it
Did you ?
The snap or was it a clap
Can't tell it's been too distorted and echoed around my empty soul
Or rather this husk of what I used to feel: the love the triumph the passion the validation .
Now I'm sure I heard it or was it you clicking and praising my words yeah maybe that's what I heard no I can feel the sinking this hole in my chest I can't listen to my heart it's voice has be laid to rest six feet is quiet a feat.
There it is again
no that was just a ding for an idea or a notion pleading to me to take action but this is a fallacy, a distraction
I'm ignoring the signs to busy thinking what is mine rather then keeping what was mine now I'm left with nothing
There it is, that distinctive ring
The timbre is right I can hear the angels sing.
this cold unloving content or is it fury I can't know surely but this time, this time.. I heard the snap of my mind
It sounded like click . clack . **bang
Wrote this now I'm a Tad rust I must say
— The End —