-This is almost like a follow up to the previous poem called 'masks'. Its main topic being based on my interpretation of what we find when we start to look inside ourselves.
Peel at the surface
and hope to reach the base
of a reality, you used to know
a once so pretty face
Left behind by isolation
and rendered a useless foe
you're marred by imperfection
that you yourself have sewn
Yet you scratch at the surface
digging deeper for the answers
do you even know the question?
As it gnaws at you like cancer
Tearing back the layers
as the creature starts to show
are you scared of your own reflection
as the pain begins to grow
So lost and unattended
as the infection settles in
corrupting from the inside
as your walls are caving in
yet you remove another layer
as the darkness seems to sow
you rip into your being
as you pay back what you owe
The scraps of you left scattered
piling high upon the floor
you keep looking for your sanity
do you even know what for?
What task is oh so daunting
that you keep punishing for more
so that maybe past the surface
is your weak and burdened core
All you really have is nothing
but the mess you have created
and the layers of your life
that leave you feeling jaded.
Yet you pry a little deeper
as the true you finally shows
a monster once so beautiful
is just a useless doe.
-Thoughts? Comments? :D Let me know what you think! Don't forget to ★!-
YOU ARE READING
A Dash of Madness
PoetryThe mind is a horrible thing to waste. Now when you have a mind like mine, where monsters come out to play and happy things come in bursts, it helps to write things down. From bad days to good days and everything in between I try to make sense of...
