Pull me back inside... breath into me life... let me not die here alone... bring me home... venom
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| I exist here, enveloped by fears, wondering and longing, cloaked by this disarming sense of being and existing, constantly resisting the urges to scream in pain. My voice restrained, disguised in song, an endless throng of laughter that hides disaster. Knowing that I do not posses this loveliness that draws them close for I was born to be ugly in spirit. Can you not hear it? I will never be what is expected of me only a mere shell that chooses to dwell, walking through this maze in a clouded daze. I am destined to be alone, to fight for my home, to struggle for breath until my welcomed death. Those that have claimed to love me have shamed my soul as they close doors on my face. I can take no more rejection. My facial expression sits as stone for I do not own even a touch of reassurance, for they have no endurance to persevere my battles. The slamming gates rattle as they walk away, and so I stay here by myself in the dark. I have grown accustomed to being the forsaken, holding my breath and waiting for one that will own the patience to deflate me. One that will have the strength to weather my storms and hold me in his arms, yet knowing it will never come. I was born for pain - it is my fate, with none to relate to this knowing, their faces glowing as they walk through their worlds like blackened pearls and I� the sand that forms them. The demon�s cackle haunts me, flaunting before my face what I will not replace, what I never before have felt or owned. My back is strong to carry this burden, to bleed in this endless hurting, to know no laughter, only the darkness after others have reveled in the light of what they find right. I long for the ending of this lifetime, to begin another, yet dread the possibility of infinite smothering, another century of fighting for air, of pleading when no one hears. I want to crawl back into the womb, to sleep inside my tomb and shut out the indifference to my pitiful appearance. It is too real, all this pain. It rips like knives through my veins, like driving rain. It is consuming. It keeps me fuming with anger and imminent danger. It is my baggage, my dog that is rabid, with frothing mouth to push me out. I cannot contain it, can no longer restrain it. I must confess at times I wish for its death. Not even tears can cleanse what seems to be my bitter end. Yet I laugh and I smile while I speak with words that are defiled. Not even mercy glances my soul the color of blackened coal. I am not good. I am evil. I am not an angel. I am a devil. Not even my thoughts are pure. There is no cure. I have ceased to be mortal. I have entered this portal. I live in sin, my hell within. Don�t speak to me of hopelessness. I exist in loneliness. I cannot break addictions or cease this friction that makes me itch. I am a rotting bitch. I dance in darkness. I wear this harness. I am restrained in these powerful reins. Ride me like a saddle into this battle. I fight no more. I am weak to the core. Put your pistol unto my temple. Watch my knees as they tremble. I have grown accustomed to my dysfunctions. I cling like cloth to the feeding troth. I cannot be healed. I have been forced to kneel. Fire burns me within from the bone to the skin. I cannot win. Pull me back inside... breath into me life... let me not die here alone... bring me home... venom |
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