Tearing a Poem In Two
The forgotten one, the lonely one
fate has raised a knife against me
The broken one, the chosen one
I've been chosen to take part in the stars masquerade
to indulge in being a puppet product of a star-crossed love
with the seed of my family's enemy; just not an enemy of mine
I've often wondered what gave my parents the right to judge love
Are they even in love themselves, in happiness
or is it a facade, a curtain they hang over me to hide the truth
Nevertheless, caring fails me
I've seen and kissed love's perfect face
danced with the darkness in their eyes
but it seems like the world wants to tear us apart
Apologies, it's not the world tearing this poem apart
only me, the writer, I cannot idolize one last time
the viewpoint of Shakespeare's characters
They were his to pave the way for death
not mine to intervene and keep them immortal
Death is an invincible protocol
but I felt their love was meant to survive
Death...I question if the presence of the reaper
is the cause of my shortness of breath
reawakened panic disorder
or was meant to launch a grenade
to dissipate any happiness flowing in like a storm in my direction
Whatever the issue, I loathe the feeling tremendously
the sick emptiness radiating in the pit of my stomach
pain resignating below the ribs
a weak, throbbing headache
Little things cause my calm seas to transform in typhoons
the 'failure', is it what I've become
I had hoped to overcome this; guess it's here to stay
if there's a remedy for this, let me know
I feel distantly combative, hostile, indifferent
and I don't know, a reoccurring cycle
I don't know
Copyright © Andrus Cassian | Year Posted 2016
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