Poems for the Pained

I'm Going Mad

Last night I looked inside my head.
I cracked open my skull and sifted through
Who I appear to be.
Beneath the lies and appearances lay something much darker than I ever believed I could have thought.
In the deepest crevices of my mind is something so honest and true that it scared me.
It sits beneath who I am percieved to be,
It has been there for a while.
You see,
I think I am going mad.
I can feel it bubbling to the surface sometimes,
Although I never pay it much attention,
It is there.
The hurt I have caused is but a mere fraction of what I can do.
There is nothing I am uncapable of,
Bar love.
When I care I don't truly care.
But I want to.
I want to feel an overwhelming sense of affection,
The true kind.
The kind I can never seem to grasp.
Does this darkness hold me hostage or do I hold it too close?
Is it my own fault that I am like this?
Maybe I'll never know.
Maybe it's for the best.