Tuesday, October 16, 2012

the gripe

A delusion,

from my brain,

the constant chatter,

my thoughts scatter

until it starts the pouring rain


alone i'm not, i knew that much

yet the feelings never cease



or decrease



The facade invites you in,

until you see what it does, within.



doors opening,
to be shut by the tender hand.



Had I left this long ago, a ghost of what I was before

I'd be gone, not caring

Like a dog, unwavering

until you give me my treat

tell me to succeed,

as I force myself to move it along.


Happiness within, a tight fit.

almost choking my subconscious.

Almost killing me within.

Death by thine invisible hands

gripping tightly at my brain.

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