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I've been debating for the longest time whether I should post this poem. It was written in a much darker time. In fact, I had just finished typing these exact same sentences earlier, but Blogger is a little messed up, and didn't post it. Worse, it didn't save anything I wrote. Even Blogger thinks it's a little too deep/depressing.

Re-reading the poem frightens me. The scary thing is that I don't know if I'm pass all this. Please don't judge or critique. I don't even want sympathy. Just read and know that I'm probably much better now. The poem has been reworded slightly for a better read.

Twist my arms, shake my fists,
Fight the chains that bind me.
Scream in silence, shout in whispers,
Curse the ones that cure me.

Spite against spite, fire burning fire,
Rope coarse around my neck.
Choking, squeezing, slightly pulsating,
Brings me to sublime bliss.

Rage oh rage, crash upon my soul,
Whithering, eroding, my morals.
Pain of joy, lust for death,
I'll see you in Paradise.

Whatever I'll be, whatever you may wish,
Is nothing but an empty shell.
I'll crack a smile, but hide my anger,
Just to conform to your slavery.

I long to run and to be free,
Yet Chains, they let me not.
The burdens you've placed around my neck,
Weights me six feet under.

I still will hide, and choose to show,
My mask of friendliness.
And when I pass I still will smile,
That falsehood of sincerity.

Wow, dark huh? Yeah, I think so too. I don't even want to think of the connotations. Sorry it's a little cliche, I know. I think I need to ride my motorcycle and clear my head. Too bad, b/c of ALL that Toronto snow. *sigh*

...At 240 km/h, there is no pain, no sorrow, no regrets; only poop stains in my shorts. posted by losir at 3:45 PM