My Piece of Mind
Does it matter the situation,
The time, or place of year?
No matter the fierce or fair sky,
The weather heightens my fear;
The constant whisperings of the wind,
The sharp slap of the rain,
Frostbitten lips, too bitter to kiss,
Their conspiring condemns me insane.
Flew from the nest of squawking beaks,
To the solitude of a stranger’s life,
Thought my transformation was complete…
When the black eye glared a knife;
I saw her infectious nature,
I know her to be unjustly cruel
But, her slight jaded judgement
Left rabid insecurities to rule.
Like the ever hungry child
My itch for acceptance grew,
In my faltering smile, I clenched
My sanity, a fast fading view
Of my piece of mind left me, pinned
To my old, festering table of shame,
The grand sacrificial centrepiece,
A personal despair, my name,
Who grasps my failure tight
As an ugly tone, deaf to the touch,
Before I whisper to the haunted night,
I shudder at my apprehensive clutch.
Copyright © Holly King | Year Posted 2010
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