Intensely in disguise A sheep in wolf skin fear present in the eyes reflects an inflaming sting. Striding in the night despite being nyctophobic says uncertainty is delight while being atelophobic. Hoping this sheath of confidence would seep into the core 'fake it till you make it ' the nagging quote we all adore.
Part of me already knows that The promises you make are empty They bare no meaning Yet I hold on to something A sliver of hope I turn away from the truth The hope I feel is my own delusion An illusion I create to save myself Kept in the dark crevices of my mind I throw myself deeper into the false pretense and dig myself my own grave once more Stuck in a reverie of my own, I let myself sink in own mind, pushing myself more into myself. I’m my own demise.
Take this with a grain of salt, if this makes you think of yourself by all means think of that. Just something I need to get out of my own system.
Called out your name For just a couple of moments, You were still here Stared into the quiet Conversations in our minds Laughter in our souls Then the world turned And the sun set The seconds are over And so, you left us.
wrote this on the day after my grandfather passed. for a few seconds i forgot he was gone, and called for him from my desk, thinking he would answer from his rocking chair. for the quickest of the second before i remembered, i could swear he was still there.
Frightened of the way, The volume of burden piles higher. Scraping the skies; Reaching into the underground. Trying to fit the position, Of the needle inside me. Growing smaller with each bend in its body, That sacrifices the human behind the machine. Submerged under the surface; Hidden beneath the facade, Of the critters that sculpt honor Into the frame of my face. Harvesting acceptance and pride from others, Who define one look as the truth of pretense. Blinding eyes from the girl that once lived.