Here
I stand here,
Here surrounded by the figures who love me, the ones who remind me of the greatness in my future.
But do you know that I am haunted by reapers?
The ones who dissolved my will to be a successor, benefactor of the good things laid out for me.
The ones that causes my great future to be as real as unicorns and fairy god mothers.
Standing here I fight the fine fight against myself
The self who isolates me from the fairy tales conjured by normal man,
Allowing me only to enjoy sprinkles of life’s nectar.
I lay here,
Here exploring the wastelands of my mind. Where the blockbusters are just the horrors written and directed by a sadist director.
Where death is king and pain his most loyal protector.
Not forgetting the nothingness who "rescues" me from pain.
Her home is just four walls with no color, just plain. I’m forced to feel nothing, I’m asked to be nothing. I’m tortured and it’s by nothing.
Here in this never ending cycle of balanced torment,
where this noose, blade and potion seems like to only solution.
But, I pen these words because I don’t want to give up. I want to be this me you see.
Please see they are layered with the emotions I feel.
Just try harder to decode their messages which scream I am here!!
Here to be saved out of this misery.
To embrace the ideology that man can truly be happy.
Copyright © Kemo Cort | Year Posted 2017
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