I can't show them,
They'll show no sympathy
They won't believe,
Or understand
The reason why I am the way I am;
Calm, and have come to deal
(With what is real).
My eyes have twisted
Into seeing, only mystic
Things and beings, running from reality,
Because it's easier let be
Anything asked of me, and to ask you
(And never me)
What would the matter be?
So, I stare out at the world
And suffer all its evils,
Rather than to unfurl
(The demons I possess)
The cause of my arrest.
If only I could bare to know
Why my life does not show
(I've always covered up)
Things I didn't want to see,
Things I did not want to hear.
(Like the fact that I mean nothing);
The only thing I fear
(I fear the inevitable,
I fear the, cannot change).
Maybe I fear my destiny
(It's making me deranged,
The thoughts that mean
I will be nothing)
Or if I was to simplify
(That there is no simple thing;
All there is, you must cope with
And all there is is hard,
Hard to struggle over, like the sentiment of time)
Something hard to over-climb,
(That thing is life,
Which has withered and worked me
To skin and bone;
Life, drains my life,
Until I'm nothing)
It's something, something hard to see, or sing, or something to let free
(Coming at me with no rest,
Is the truth which lies in me:
The truth is that I will die
And leave no truth behind.
These false things are my
Poems; emotionally blind)
Because I was too scared to be
(Or, discover meaning inside,
I made up feelings
I do not feel,
To be far away from real,
And, the truth which eats at me;
The gore, the truth which will come--do not
Succumb or your soul you'll choose to die; Body may wither but soul will)
