I have tried to be happy,
to put on the smile,
wear my mask like a good little boy.
I have tried to be my best
to not let people down.
My happiness is gone now,
torn away by a treacherous mind.
I cling to the tatters,
leeching warmth from the scraps.
The cold seeps in still.
You could de-construct my pieces,
find your way inside.
Tap at the stone
that replaced my heart;
hope to hear an echo.
You could climb into the abysm
that used to house my soul.
Close your eyes in its darkness
find a memory of before.
You could creep into my mind;
find the joy that someone stole.
You could.
I wish you would.
But you won’t.
It’s easy
to blame someone else
when your own mind
strips away the lie
that you call life
leaving you with only
the cynical vanity
that the world is against you.
To let the waves wash over
and slip beneath the surface,
swallow that darkness
as you scream.
To assume
that no-one loves you
so you don’t have to try
or risk getting cut
by the treachery
of rejection.
It’s easy.
Far, far too easy.
Read not,
in my sad, tired eyes
the story of one
who has never loved.
I have loved
I have lost
Learned to love again.
Abandoned love
in pursuit of myself.
Read only,
the story of a search
to find true love.
A search I can never fulfil
to find a way
to love myself.
Angst, Love And Other Monsters Of The Mind 