Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 Feb 2018 In the dark
Rumi
I’m drenched
in the flood
which has yet to come

I’m *******
in the prison
which has yet to exist



Not having played
the game of chess
I’m already the checkmate



Not having tasted
a single cup of your wine
I’m already drunk



Not having entered
the battlefield

I’m already wounded and slain



I no longer
know the difference
between image and reality



Like the shadow
I am

And

I am not
The only person that listens to me is my external dialogue
You call it schizophrenia, I call it a duologue
But in reality it's just, it's just that in a group of two
I am my own leader, subject, enemy and compeer
Born out of a fear of being alone, my mind began to sere
And unintentionally planted a voice into each cerebral hemisphere
Don't fall in love.

You just ended a two-year
relationship with somebody
you were practically married too.

You moved to the city
and told yourself that you'd focus
on work and fun and anything
but falling in love.

You were down to meet boys.
Hang with boys.
Kiss boys. Go on dates with boys.
Maybe date a boy.

But then, he was there.
& he had been there
for a few weeks,
and you had the inkling,
and you being you,
you had to find out,
and now, look at yourself.

You're looking at him.
You're looking at him
like he's the next five,
ten, fifteen, sixty
years of your life.

Don't do it.
Don't do it.
WRR-

— The End —