Ira Dawson Poet Rhyme

This Is Not

This is not my room.
But a tomb 
That consumes
Every inch of what’s good in me.
Look.
Do you see it?
Can you feel it?
Slurp and taste
The waste of what’s left in me.
Yes, it’s happening.
The roar of truth is deafening.

That’s not my name.
But a title that frames
All my greatest mistakes
Sprawled out in front of me. 
It’s sickening
Embarrassing
This isn’t how it’s meant to be.
I tried my best to come clean.
What happened to simplicity?
They are not my friends.
Just the company I keep
Since the loneliness has made me weak.
I fear my words before I speak.
And so should he.
And so should she.

This is not my dream.
Unfortunately,
For you and me
I’ve spent my time,
Calculating costs
And planning my blows.
Putting bulls-eyes on those
Who harmed me the most.

This is not me.

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