Behind the Mask

Behind the Mask

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Wed, Apr 13, 2016
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Poetry
I have through many tough times through out my life. And i always felt like my voice never mattered. So instead of using my unheard voice for nothing, i put it in to words on a blank peice of paper. This became my escape from the real world and into my world. Kids and teachers encouraged me to publish my writings. I declined saying my poems were never good enough for the publics word seeking eyes. I have always felt weak in society, like my voice was never heard. Like no one cared. So i remand silent, letting my voice slowly die. Now i see so many others with no voice, i want them to know that they aren't alone. Because i remember feeling alone with no voice. I dedicate these poems to them. Because i understand, and your not alone. Some of us look for comfort in words and the rest of us look for comfort and the words of others. I found comfort in writing words and letting people discover my voice. And here is to those who think their voice doesn't matter, because it does.
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#387
damaged
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Nothing left my mouth as I stared at him in shock. He truly believed that I was part of this. The man, who I had lived with and served for months. The man who I had protected with my life and soul. I stood still while, as he backed away from me quickly. "I trusted you with my life." His cry pierced around the empty room. He looked so destroyed and hurt, but mostly his face portrayed rage and determation. "And I protected you with mine." I spoke back loudly. I didn't hear myself say it but I knew I did. I look into his eyes even from our distance they seemed to wallow me in darkness. "I gave you mine." My voice was quiet and cracked. His face changed only for a second before his old one took over again. He doesn't believe me. It doesn't matter what I say or do he won't listen. He will still believe I am the bad guy. Just as Kane said, we will never be equals, we will never be fellow humans. We will always be monsters to them. "Yakov, I am not the bad guy." I plead one last time. His Russian accent comes out harsh with his next words. "Your right," he pauses, "you are the villain." I stumble back as if I had just been stabbed in the chest. It was a horrible feeling. It was never good with the emotions and yet I recognize the feeling as heart beak. I barely breathe in air as I regain my posture. A battle cry from somewhere distracts me momentarily. I suddenly remember Ewan. I glare at Yakov one more time before I take off after the cries of battle. Jade believes she started the war among the human and her kind. Nothing is as it was portrayed. The lies and the truth are hidden among each other. There is is no clear good and evil. How can there be if one does not know what is right and what is wrong. She was prepared to see death, prepared to inflict death upon others without mercy or remose. She was prepared to do her job which the Facility had given her. But now it doesn't seem so simple anymore. Instead she focuses on keeping her friends alive.

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