Pitifully Woven with Hope
I was born in a cage, my veins are the chains running down from my brain straight into the grand muscle that is my heart. The body that holds some truth but mainly lies—oh how right they were when they described the flesh as weak.
These lies feed my soul creating the building blocks to the outside realm. It is a stunningly, monstrous caricature of what was and could be, but hardly stopping for the moments that are present in nature.
I am the definition of sensitivity. Never fully satisfied, disappointing the faithful. Change will rear its piercing sword inevitably. But I wear it like a “Kick me” sign, regretting that I put trust into the imaginary. Projects are always left unfinished. The journey is never fully completed.
I am enamored by the simple kiss placed among the lips. It becomes the seal of trickery for us romantics, wearing it like a medallion as if we are now royalty. Yes, deception for the rosy-eyed as the flirtatious snicker behind our backs at the display of falseness. I haven't got a clue and before I know it my shell is cut open, bleeding emotions that could never last. At least not in this lifetime.
I'll shamefully dismiss those ships, the ones that leave the harbor vacant at the dead of night. And then I know I'll be getting nervous at this point, a fate that is whispered only in the frigid breeze that forces those sails into the opposite direction, the pirates content with the shiny new stolen treasures they'll carry to the grave.
The miserable darkness that follows with the night sky settles into my subconscious like powdered layers of dust settling within the cracks and crevices of a decrepit house that you pass on the side of the road that you can't seem to help but mourn the fact it has lost all of its potential. But you shouldn't waste the fleeting time feeling sorry too.
I can feel my pulse start to race like a horse as I lay there in the sanctuary of my bed. The repeated images of my imagination create a movie I can't ever walk out of because it seems I am unable to peel my eyes away from the screen. As if the movie reel possesses the same power of a siren, luring me to nothing but the guarantee for my self-destruction.
The intense thudding of my heart within it's cage resonates within my bones. This is when I begin to toss and turn. The ringing in my ears will not cease, sending me even more into a panic. The sense of dread and defeat start to become absolutely unbearable, my safety net torn away from underneath me. I fall just short of balancing this trapeze act until the end.
I am immensely grateful for the graceful appearance of the moon, he is my savior. Tonight he is full and round shaped, my favorite face that he owns. His beams of light extend down to fill my being with inspiration once again so I can receive the tools to cope with my unique existence.
He never fails me, this time giving me my voice again with this mere pen. I will defend the remaining hope for it is my duty. It's the key to unlocking this cage. Most things will come to an end, as they should. But despite this, I can be certain the weight of these words will never fade.
I will undoubtedly always remain the most unconventional piece of the puzzle. I have but no choice to accept what has been bestowed upon me, draped onto my shoulders like a magnificent cloak, but please do not be fooled for I am not in any way near to claiming the traits that come with being a saint.
There is no doubt that in my world I will remain an indisputable mess, but I'll always tidy up for those honorably invited guests who will have the abilities to relish in delight as the shooting stars amongst the twinkling constellations of the words I am righteously blessed to possess.
These lies feed my soul creating the building blocks to the outside realm. It is a stunningly, monstrous caricature of what was and could be, but hardly stopping for the moments that are present in nature.
I am the definition of sensitivity. Never fully satisfied, disappointing the faithful. Change will rear its piercing sword inevitably. But I wear it like a “Kick me” sign, regretting that I put trust into the imaginary. Projects are always left unfinished. The journey is never fully completed.
I am enamored by the simple kiss placed among the lips. It becomes the seal of trickery for us romantics, wearing it like a medallion as if we are now royalty. Yes, deception for the rosy-eyed as the flirtatious snicker behind our backs at the display of falseness. I haven't got a clue and before I know it my shell is cut open, bleeding emotions that could never last. At least not in this lifetime.
I'll shamefully dismiss those ships, the ones that leave the harbor vacant at the dead of night. And then I know I'll be getting nervous at this point, a fate that is whispered only in the frigid breeze that forces those sails into the opposite direction, the pirates content with the shiny new stolen treasures they'll carry to the grave.
The miserable darkness that follows with the night sky settles into my subconscious like powdered layers of dust settling within the cracks and crevices of a decrepit house that you pass on the side of the road that you can't seem to help but mourn the fact it has lost all of its potential. But you shouldn't waste the fleeting time feeling sorry too.
I can feel my pulse start to race like a horse as I lay there in the sanctuary of my bed. The repeated images of my imagination create a movie I can't ever walk out of because it seems I am unable to peel my eyes away from the screen. As if the movie reel possesses the same power of a siren, luring me to nothing but the guarantee for my self-destruction.
The intense thudding of my heart within it's cage resonates within my bones. This is when I begin to toss and turn. The ringing in my ears will not cease, sending me even more into a panic. The sense of dread and defeat start to become absolutely unbearable, my safety net torn away from underneath me. I fall just short of balancing this trapeze act until the end.
I am immensely grateful for the graceful appearance of the moon, he is my savior. Tonight he is full and round shaped, my favorite face that he owns. His beams of light extend down to fill my being with inspiration once again so I can receive the tools to cope with my unique existence.
He never fails me, this time giving me my voice again with this mere pen. I will defend the remaining hope for it is my duty. It's the key to unlocking this cage. Most things will come to an end, as they should. But despite this, I can be certain the weight of these words will never fade.
I will undoubtedly always remain the most unconventional piece of the puzzle. I have but no choice to accept what has been bestowed upon me, draped onto my shoulders like a magnificent cloak, but please do not be fooled for I am not in any way near to claiming the traits that come with being a saint.
There is no doubt that in my world I will remain an indisputable mess, but I'll always tidy up for those honorably invited guests who will have the abilities to relish in delight as the shooting stars amongst the twinkling constellations of the words I am righteously blessed to possess.