Nothing
I've had to lose myself to madness just to know who I am. Every time less than me comes back. Madness grips hold of me tightly, nearly calming me I'm free from idealistic perceptions of what normal is. I'm free to cry through relentless laughter. I can laugh at the tears staining my face with hate. I can become anything, but mostly I'm nothing. Nothing I once assumed was just that. The lack of appeal for a second glance the clarity that I've been overlooked, walk past, misread, misjudged, not judged at all. I was grossly misinformed nothing seems to be the lack of everything. People walk right through me unless I rearrange my path for them. I build walls so my demons are held in not so everyone is kept out. Judgment of my lifestyle. Who I love, even worse who I can't love, always coming up short, never being enough for anyone, anything. I step back looking at myself. I'm unclear of who I am. Nothing I am nothing yet again. Nothing triggers my madness. I look for affirmation of any kind. Am I even alive? Is this my hell? It must be only that when I'm mad, dancing sides by side with all of my demons, the addict the liar the self-destructor. Only when I'm inside the relentless mosh pit getting thrown tirelessly, wildly from one to the next, every touch scarring me meticulously so no other human can see only then am I sane only then can I be seen only then am I loved. Madness holds me tighter. The music ceases. My demons leave as well. Lonely,battered, nothing effortlessly drags me back to reality everyone takes part in. I am nothing again till madness dances with my demons.
Copyright © Holly Flores | Year Posted 2022
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