I saw it,
Lurking underneath...
It's eyes were empty
Yet burning;
With something.
Chastity,
Was no way to describe it,
At least, not anymore.
But I remembered,
A ghost of a smile,
In its eyes...
Lost childhood,
Or maybe something else...
But I knew it was not always a monster.
There it lay,
A chasm away,
Its lost innocence.
But it was still there.
I see it,
Every now and then.
It has forgiven me,
For pushing it away,
For pushing it towards becoming
What it was.
But it has not forgotten,
Nor have I,
For I am reminded about its existence,
And it mine,
Every time I look into the mirror,
It's there,
Waiting for me,
Waiting to reopen its account.
Then again,
I do have to pay its debt.
I am the one who created it,
I was the one that nurtured it,
I too have to be the one,
To set it free.
To let it out.
How long I could hold it in,
I do not know.
But, even the cages - my ribs,
Are getting tired.
YOU ARE READING
Way Ward
PoetryLife is a jumbled mess. And from within this mess, I'm gifting you "your" stories, along with the stories of some other lost souls. Way Ward - A way to find your lost self.
