There is a nest of shadows
inside my chest.
They occupy the parts
of my heart that feel
the heaviest.
Don't you worry about
the loud and irregular beats,
that's just the shadows
throwing a party.
They do leave their lodging
to come take a lengthy stroll with me.
My everyday struggles
feeds their enthusiasm.
Don't you worry about
them being conspicuous,
they are proficient in the art
of blending in with the crowd.
The tapping of my feet
is followed by their ever so silent
swishing around.
They hold my wrist and ankles
to guide me to places
I'd rather never visit.
Don't you worry about
my free will,
I long ago signed a contract
that surrendered them my soul.
Sometimes they like to switch up houses
so they come reside in my eyes
then mischievously flood it
and leave me to clean up their mess.
Don't you worry about
the rent;
they pay in cheques
of anger and despair.
YOU ARE READING
The Truths of a Liar
Poetry"She is sane, no matter how trapped she feels; if anything at least she is braver in pretense." All the poems I upload are written by me over the course of a few years (and still going). Highest Rank 1st April, 2018 - #61 (Not an April fool's joke �...
