Sometimes I pick up a pen to write, but then nothing comes to mind.
Sometimes I lie in bed getting ready to sleep, then tears roll down my eyes and words for sentences in my mind.
I try as much to hide my emotions most of the time.
Give people an image of a person who actually doesn't exist.
But until recently, my view of the world was simple, it's either this or that, nothing more.
Now I see things differently.
I can't be the guy I am and hope to make a change.
I realized the only person holding me down was me.
I was my own downfall, my own limitation.
I tried so hard to be the guy I was not and ended creating a parallel personality.
I thought I was exceptionally unique and had a mind far greater than any other, but I was wrong.
All I had were fantasies and illusions.
I thought I was even the best when I failed.
I relied on no one but me, and now I suffer with no one but me.
I'm a damaged me.
A wrecked soul hoping to start life again.
Sometimes I wonder what I could have done differently,
I wonder what life would have been for others without me,
I wonder if I'm needed at all,
And sometimes I wonder, what if I died today?
I'm a master manipulator of my habits and skills, yet a slave to my emotions.
I'm wrecked within.
YOU ARE READING
PIECES
Poetry~Deep or hollow ~Emotional or emotionless ~Love or hatred ~Today or tomorrow It's your choice