I don’t think I believe what I believe anymore.
If only, if only I knew what was true.
My mind fights and fights to try to even the score
but honestly I really don’t have a clue.
When I run I sweat,
when I laugh I smile.
The truth hits me over the head
as I run half a mile.
I just run away from the troubles I face,
no confrontation,
because that’s just not my place.
I need a vacation.
I don’t think I believe what I believe anymore.
Is this really supposed to happen?
Life is just a whore,
repeating itself, and being used over and over again.
I’ve seen these tears before
somewhere in a dream,
they were waiting at the door
and biting the screen.
What is regret?
It is my enemy,
watching me fret
as I pace endlessly.
I don’t think I believe what I believe anymore.
maggots
3 days ago
I like it. I know the feeling of barely holding tears back. And the picture of regret being an enemy watching you, waiting for the right moment, is such a strong picture.
ReplyDeleteGood job!
Also...as serious as this poem is, I almost laughed when you referred to life as a whore. It's a good metaphor, but it's also slightly funny, especially coming from you. :)
Great poem, though. I really like it.