Realization
I am no poet. I'm a liar. I see it and I mock it. I build it to destroy it. I live between
the letters. Theres nothing left for me see, nothing left except me, I haven't know
the person in the mirror for years. Or am I this? Questions fill my body, answers
are all around me, but I'm so dizzy from chasing them around, I can barely stand.
Every time I take a step, I fall three back. It isn't fun. These games aren't fun, but
they kill time. They kill the minutes between my falls. I knew you for a week and
drained you for your worth. I thought I was on the mend, but I guess its true when
the horse says ending is better than mending, so all I do is say I'm sorry, and it
gets me nowhere, but thats okay cause I have nowhere to go. I look up and watch
the sky heaving with its sobs, asking why it hurts so much, and he told me "the
world is a machine, and its people are its gears, most are in their place, while
some are in the teeth," Now I haven't moved since that day and my hearbeat is
getting weaker, but as long as I stay out of the way, I can disappear completely.
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