Listen close to the beatings of my heart,
Does time stand still when you get too close?
Every vulnerable beat getting you nearer to home
where the helplessness lies comouflaged.
Listen intently, fear you might miss the spectacle
That's what you are down to..
My torment the performance, my dead soul the stage.
You witness it, the play, and applaud
As I hide backstage and kill myself to sleep.
"This was not how it was supposed to go down" you say
but not a thing you did to make it go the other way.
Each day you got your candle closer to my soul
First burnt all my edges before swallowing me whole.
Your existence is cruel and it wretched my bones
Tell me you vile pawn of the villain
~Why should I help you carry your weight,
when you have no time to even listen to my pain?~
YOU ARE READING
DEAD FEELINGS
PoetryPenning down the extravaganza of thoughts that waltz in my head each day. Some dead, some alive, some barely breathing, but each one of them complete in it's isolation Some glooming, some blooming, some reflective and true, Some shrouded in shadow...
