I had two faces,
One born and one made.
One that reflects me,
The other, what people want.
The first was always chastised,
The second always praised.
The first discouraged,
The second encouraged.
The first was seen as a sign of weakness.
And I was forced to shut it.
As only ill came to me
When I tried to pull it up.
The second, always cherished
Lived within me,
Like a parasite that drained
My true first.
When the purpose
Of second was over, it left.
Left me in a void,
That reeked of my dead first.
YOU ARE READING
string of words
PoetryPoems come to me like Words falling from the sky creating an ache in my chest Forcing my hand to write it.
