When dreams make the
shadow of their evil real ,
then walk the sodden path
of forgetfulness .
☆
Forgetting of all life , love
and tenderness of human
touch .
☆
Vanquished , youth's idyll
lay bound in silken chains of regret .
Blinded eyes plucked out ,
lay on a silver tray at his
side .
☆
Discarded and unloved .
☆
Like a meagre meal
in poverty's room ,
the soul is dissected and
eaten piecemeal by devils .
☆
While in dead of night
or blazing sun of noon ,
the stench of rotting dreams
shrouds Eternity over those deadened eyes .

I want to be available
to the people who love me.
I want to be there
emotionally, physically, financially.
I want to be their shoulder
their crutch, their solace.
The person who does not drop anything.
I want to give the feeling
of lightness to every being walking this earth.
Every human, creature, and plant
as they grow up fast.
I want to be nutrition,
a steadfast superhuman
so unfazed, so cool-headed.

It infuriates me
that I'm not this person.
It should be so easy to give.
If I just get my **** together,
I've repeated on and off again
the last five years.
But somehow, I always manage
to waste enough time
to get there,
but late.
When I have nothing
left, a hollow person
someone gave too
many tries.

Still, the people I love
tell me I'm wise,
an angel body.
Like they must justify,
who I am,
the imposter
the transient,
always planning,
for when she can
run away again.

I earned this status in a very vulnerable and upsetting moment in my life.

Of course, it was exploited and took advantage of. Me.

I served as an inside joke, a clown for others to get a kick out of, free use and laughter for others.

All whilst patronising me! I was oblivious. This, accompanied by other hardships, continued for a ruthless and renting four years, until it ceased.

The joke had gotten old, and they let me be.

More or less, this goes to show what true reality is like. Vulnerability is what monsters prey after! Like a shark huffing the scent of blood underwater, they prowl.

Is a dream I can’t have.

I’d like to

But my brain's response is sluggish
And the me you know is not
The me that I am...

Right now.

Feels like fear.

Depression
Is my peace.

Laughter
Helps me see.

Isolation
Is my relief.