|Observatory Story & Seemed Dreams
Author: InkTechnique PM
The world needs to leave me alone, I'm choking on my own breath... We ignore ourselves, and store our dreams on shelves.Rated: Fiction T - English - Hurt/Comfort/Poetry - Words: 363 - Reviews: 1 - Favs: 1 - Follows: 1 - Published: 10-12-12 - Status: Complete - id: 3065051
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
My joints are inflamed
My bone-chilled hands are made of porcelain
Why does my point of view interchange like a drunk switching lanes?
Why am I happily AWARE, confident, determined
and sad, anxious, pained, angry a few hours later?
Is it home? Is it the fucking pills?
Why can't I SLEEP?
And if I do, I'll dream of my life ripping apart
at the seams, a coffin full of moldy garbage, the fear of my
Is my perception advanced or deficient?
The world needs to me alone
I'm choking on my own breath…
Skeleton of a dog, walking
Vivid car accident, mocking
I want to remain quiet, silence my gums
Is there a button to keep my jaw shut?
And I swear I'll scream if my brother implies I'm a slut
My self-confidence is crushed, verbally beaten
it's like they want my aspirations to be barren
like the desert of deception,
and just like the election, there's a 50/50 chance
I'll face rejection.
Yet you can never steal my authentic hope that my
skills will not only be used to cope
and since I had to stop smokin' dope,
Writing's been angry, audacious, accusatory.
My own blood judges me as if they were omniscient
Hey hypocrites, haven't you noticed my pain, my rebellion is from YOU
This hell is not just observatory
And one day I will have the chance
to broadcast my story.
ignore the lies
Sever the ties of resent from my heart
I wish I learned quickly from the start
Love is buried from my home,
hard beneath the 15 year old foundation
Instead blame and an anger that refuses to be tamed
grows freshly at the top.
We've never learned to stop,
or question ourselves.
Of course not, we store our aspirations
on shelves, refusing to share them
Instead we learn to tear them,
dissect and analyze them until they are
no longer a concept
Your dreams are not meant to be sliced
and diced, until they aren't even a dream
Not even resembling how joyous
they initially seemed.