#internalconflict
“Smile,” they urge, “just play the part,” But what’s a grin without a heart?
Perhaps "happy" is a word too tall, And a simple curve is all they call.
“Smile a little, it suits your face,” A splash of paint to hide the space.
They don’t need your joy, your light, your fire, Just the upward tug they all admire.
Smile for them, so they never trace.
The hollow lines behind the lace; A porcelain mask, a grand design, To keep the wreckage from the shrine.
Are you happy, drifting through the years, Or just an expert at drying tears?
You want the truth, not the painted lie, But a smile looks better to the passerby.
It’s a decoration, a gilded screen, The prettiest veil that’s ever been.
“Wear it,” they say, “it fits so well,” But you’ve lived so long in that hollow shell.
Why claw at the edges? Why try to break free? When the mask is all they want to see.
They fear the salt, the raw, the deep, The nameless secrets that you keep.
Is it an ugly face, or just unknown? A map of shadows you’ve walked alone?
You dropped the mask once, felt the chill, Was that the freedom you sought to fill?
Or are you trembling, stripped and bare, Scared of the ghost that’s lingering there?
Perhaps the crowd didn't build the wall, Perhaps you’re the one who fears the fall.
It isn't their hands that pull the string, But your own fear of the truth you bring.
Perhaps it’s you who shuns the light, To keep The Smiling Mask in sight.
May 1
May 1, 2026 at 3:20 AM UTC
Touched by silken ropes,
Has feeling tied you up in knots?
Does a thief within your mind
Steal away your thoughts?
"Call the marshall," said the judge,
"This feeling stands accused
Of taking thought and word away
And making me confused."
"Call the jury," said the judge,
"What verdict have you reached?"
"Guilty on all counts, we think
A lesson should we teach."
Locked within a tiny cell
The mind shall guard its thief.
Walls of thought and bars of words
Seal in belief.
Oct 26, 2014
Oct 26, 2014 at 4:09 AM UTC
i’m fine
i am not fine
it’s nothing, really
it is everything, actually
just tired
exhausted in ways sleep can’t fix
school, stress, you know
existing feels like wading through cement
i’ll be okay
i don’t know if i will
it comes and goes
it never really leaves
you don’t have to worry
please notice
i’ve got it handled
i am barely holding this together
it’s all in my head
it is everywhere
see?
nothing to worry about.
see me.
Mar 30
Mar 30, 2026 at 8:00 PM UTC
I wish I could write about balance
Yet it seems much is lost with me
Like the philosophy that used to define
Or the friends who used to get high
Yes, it seems I have aged for the worse
Becoming the very thing I fought against
The usual nine to five employee
Whose life revolves around a clock
Desperately waiting for the ringing bell
So that I might go home just to start over
"Can you help me with my homework?"
I'm a father now and having a purpose
Helps to cleanse the monotony
Yet, there is always that lingering thought
< Who am I? >
< Is this balance? Or is balance lost? >
The uncertainty is maddening as I return to the present
"Life is the geometric progression of experience"
It slips out and they want an explanation
"Please, Dad!"
I internalize my struggle
As I struggle to reconnect with my former philosopher
So I draw two dots for them
One is me now and one is me then
"Boys, this dot here is who your father was.
This other dot is who he's become.
Perhaps the value of the latter is less than its former.
Maybe mathematics got it wrong and real value doesn't have a power
Or ratio to determine greatness.
What if the father you know now is less than the man he was?
Like that negative sign I find myself subtracting,
Removing years and tears and time
In an attempt to find that simple balance
Possessed by a mind without a factor."
The boys look up to me as I hide my shame
< They know men do not cry >
"It's okay Dad, we love you for who you are now.
You've become more than just a simple number.
To us, you are the world's greatest father."
< There it is >
I think to myself
< I am found >
The reason I continue through the pain
(Balance Regained)
Mar 28
Mar 28, 2026 at 6:17 PM UTC
i see a mass standing in front of the mirror—
a human, perhaps.
i can't call her a girl.
she doesn't have the attributes—
enough to be called all that.
it's a reflection,
undeterred,
simply wretched.
there are marks on the mirror—
proof it hasn't been cleaned.
i wonder if they're on my body too.
i hope the glass has enough cracks
to hide and tell
how it feels every time
i discover the same wrecked look
staring back.
the skin is loose
around a few different hooks,
feels like it's sagging—
i pull so hard,
hoping i'll tear through.
i feel nothing but pain
for her,
hidden beneath all that disgust—
the turmoil i'll put her in,
the self-hatred.
and to think—
she’s just become
a black mass
of everything and nothing.
a loathsome, foolish little being
that can’t fit,
can’t talk,
can’t sit.
she’s not the ideal.
and sometimes i think
her existence
isn’t for the world even—
she’s just a scandal.
May 29, 2025
May 29, 2025 at 11:00 AM UTC
It comes to me that I
don’t truly know who I am.
Some call me brilliant,
lovely, bright, and beautiful ,Others call me idiotic ,
depressing, selfish.
I don’t know my name,
shaped and molded by the perceptions of others.
Who am I?
Lying awake at the peak of dawn,
I ask myself—
what’s my favorite color? My hobbies? My favorite food?
Nothing.
I don’t know who I am.
Am I the cool breeze that lingers in the August heat?
Am I the rivers that flow through the soil and greens?
Am I the rain—crying the sky’s tears,
consoling those who weep?
Am I the moon—adored in private, unseen by day?
Or maybe…
I’m the earthquake that shatters hearts and souls.
Maybe I’m the tornado that destroys as it goes.
Maybe I’m the villain in this story,
while someone else— is the hero.
I don’t know.
I don’t know who I am.
Perhaps I never will.
I only see myself through others’ eyes, never my own.
My own mind—
a war zone.
With My heart and mind, forever at war.
I don’t know who I am.
Perhaps, I never will-
Lost in echoes of voices— not my own.
Mar 2, 2025
Mar 2, 2025 at 8:07 PM UTC
There's a mystery she hides
As she passes by through a tree
No one is particular with her name
Even her face no one could see
As she swing in the cradle in the tree
Swing, swing back in fourth
she stopped and turn her way to me
Everything went dark
And, I wake up lying in the park
It is near the lake that I could barely see myself
It's me who no one dares to ask
It's me who embraces darkness than weakness
It's me who feels denied so isolate
Jan 6, 2025
Jan 6, 2025 at 5:25 AM UTC
I heard a voice
call out:
Are you home?
(perhaps it came
from within)
A stranger's voice
that's called
before.
I am
insular.
I am Home!
Inside
This temple of dissipation.
Oct 22, 2019
Oct 22, 2019 at 12:07 PM UTC
I’m trapped inside nothingness and I am left defenseless.
It seems to be pitch black as I open and close my eyes, there is nothing to be seen.
To be specific, it’s Vantablack.
It’s one of the darkest substance that’s known and it absorbs 99.96% of visible light.
You, you are my .04% when I’ve lost hope.
You, you are the thing that keeps me going.
I know the faith of mine has been wavering.
But you, you God are the reason I’m fighting to find my .04% chance of light again.
Jun 15, 2019
Jun 15, 2019 at 4:33 PM UTC
**** I feel lonely,
everyone is a phoney.
Nobody understands me,
nobody can stand me.
All I see is fake smiles,
big words full of lies,
big world full of liars,
pretenders and deniers.
Go on, keep pretending,
like your life has meaning.
Go on, carry on with the fake praise,
pretending to care is the new craze.
When the going gets tough man,
the pretenders forget you, ****
You are all alone in this world,
most bitter truth I have ever heard.
Maybe I am being a bit harsh,
maybe my words are a bit rash.
But **** I feel lonely,
I have no one who loves me.
Feb 18, 2019
Feb 18, 2019 at 12:00 PM UTC
Sometimes a voice in your head will tell you that you are a disappointment. Look that thing in the eye and say, "You're a disappointment!"
Then realize that you are still shouting negative things at yourself in the mirror. Second thought, don't. Please don't take advice like this from me.
Jul 12, 2018
Jul 12, 2018 at 8:17 PM UTC
I haven’t been this happy in quite some time.
I still feel tinges of pain
But they never last long.
They no longer feel the same.
They’re distant you see,
far from the depths of my heart
For the holes that echoed cavernous, fill with webs, holding together what once fell apart.
And I smile.
Because I’m happy
Not obligated
or covering up something more raw and real
but genuinely happy
that’s part of his appeal
These webs catch feelings,
ones of warmth
a calming peace
Those little arachnid legs
will wrap carefully these from greatest to the least
and store them away
deep in the depths of my heart
to call upon those memories
when I feel I'm to fall apart
Hopefully the light lasts
even in my darkest of days
and the butterflies he's hatched
scare the moths aways
away
they'll fly leaving the fields bright and clear,
and comforting darkness
sent off to disappear
But yet, we all know
that moths attract to light in dark
but maybe I'll learn to love them,
as the Entomologist holds my heart.
Dec 19, 2017
Dec 19, 2017 at 9:48 PM UTC
**** around
too many thoughts in my head
they need to breath
they need to be
i’ve turned my anxiety inside out
and broken through the wall.
substance user
feeling abuser
i am the ghastly ideas that
pace under your bed at night
the man in the corner at a
short glance.
feel my pain because i have none left.
clear skies reflect white lies
i don’t want to change my brown eyes
Dec 12, 2017
Dec 12, 2017 at 1:37 PM UTC
They say life's a bliss.
But what if
When you play the words, you stiff.
For a gift of tongue, you're not blessed.
Your opinion, unheard.
Your point, misinterpreted.
Your side, neglected.
Your existence, taken for granted.
Who says it's happiness;
When life itself is the maximum limit?
When you battle for your right?
The right to express what's in - deep.
It's a continuous struggle when you're your own foe.
It's an everyday cry of your unuttered woes.
Sep 8, 2017
Sep 8, 2017 at 7:15 PM UTC
On my shoulder,
a raven rest.
Her talons pierce my skin,
as I hold her weight.
No one sees the raven,
I hide her very well.
The raven can never fly away,
She is bound to me.
The raven wants to be seen,
Be heard.
She screeches beside my ear,
She drives away my sanity.
The raven has been with me,
For awhile now.
At first she was small,
And barely noticeable.
As time went on,
The raven grew.
Her size grew along with her strength,
And also her desperation.
The raven wants to be free.
She wants to fly away,
To some place else,
And leave me behind.
Why did the raven come?
Why can't the raven leave?
Is the raven even real?
Am I insane?
I am the raven.
She is me.
I am she.
The raven is me.
Apr 27, 2015
Apr 27, 2015 at 12:08 AM UTC
Of man be there two.
One holder of mirror whilst other a scryer,
renders mirror to glass pierces through.
Where one speaks the other is silenced,
mere whisper acknowledged in this interchanging feud.
So in this blurred intersection,
where there is no reflection
Then what man of man be the truth?
What man of man be the truth
as he stands here split in two?
Be it what he thinks or what he do
that makes the man?
This single man in double view.
A multi facet that will reveal itself in time due.
A facet only glimpsed in certain light,
gone unnoticed by friends.
One and the same in this game of life
where does one begin and one end,
when it is only in the battle that they raise their head?
See the chimera for what it truly is,
this lone Mr a Hydra instead.
Each flitters between life and the scythe
as they fight for control.
Each condemned to the darkness
as the other negotiates sole lease of this soul.
But Death haunts the two because the two
form the whole.
And so this dual begins
without rules and birthed in sin.
Begun with one who seeks to release his debase desires
that lie un-mired in mind,
confined to an imaginary state,
where he can ****** slander unheard
but then he plays with fate.
He plays with fate, when he opens the bottle,
hands himself to the primal,
unprimed for the battle that lay ahead.
That lay in head and heart and will;
one's will that will leave one dead.
But for now each has his role.
One takes the guise of a Jackal
in cunning he seeks to conceal the other,
his brother in hiding,
in sin he hides him inside him
but he will not be silenced.
The fiend longs for this angels confession
and will teach wings a lesson in flight
as he makes his escape in dark and in light.
So this would be angel tries in vain
to press the other down, so that he can remain
but he's wingless and in pain, feeling the strain of
restraints that will no longer contain
the hate that dominates as the other pushes free,
pushes to be this man's sole identity.
This poor soul thought he could enslave that which was caged
and to the beast he did open the door
but it was this angel that lost his wings
mauled by a beast that would not sing to his tune, just roar.
Each sacrificed for the other
as this man of man ends his days
cold on the floor.
For man can not negotiate with fate.
And when One cannot take rule
the pair will end their days together
in the dual.
Nov 10, 2014
Nov 10, 2014 at 4:44 PM UTC