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Different characters grace my notebook.
Life in its twists being dissolved slowly by them with each chapter...each page in my book.
Unique the people described inside.. they live in their written role, glorifying themselves in the build up and break down of me.
The atributes of one, well describes me fully...as they fade...I fade...
Its difficult these days it seems, to keep track of the images coming as one in and out of my life.
Cannot distinguish one from another, the background noise of this state drowns out the individuality of friends voices.
Making it difficult...so much so I cannot recognize friend from enemy in terms of people.
It reminds of groping blindly in the dark.
Tongue and thoughts get tangled between saying hello and goodbye...at which person do I say one?
Soon as I say one, it is time for the other...adjustment..time for that, there is none.
Mind is confused and my ability to form words is a task that takes awkward effort..
Results are stiff and tense.
I find myself staring into space..having to consciously startle myself into coming out of it.
Unsure and absolutely clueless as to how much time had passed in my blank musings.
What I think about?...even thats not known....what?
I sit in bewildered amazement of this life...to who I thought I knew everything about...that changes.
Let me hold my head in this struggle.
Things that should be felt remain numb.
What I wish could be logical remain confusing and irrational.
Feelings....that's what they are, I refuse to entrust my thoughts to them.
If being detached as my lost thoughts remain secrets.
Well, perhaps not all is lost.
I can make a poem without rhymes...
...or is that just another thing that is considered impossible?
Just as some pretend to make sense without answers.
Or build a life without love
Or love without trust.
Trust, what is that?
Is this a life?
Doubt circling every word, deciphering motives...actions are quite the venture they say.
"They" say quite a lot, don't they?
The irony is, I listen to them.
My reasoning is..
To achieve the anonymous status of "they"
must mean that you must have some level of expertise and perhaps some level of intelligence.
Making my easy to convince habits quite reasonable...the question still is....
Why does it remain easier to believe the words in an article, than the tears in your eyes?
Confused I am left
Why must I never know what to believe?
Caught between this world, solving mysteries is not what I wish..
..some things are better left alone I have heard.
Maybe I don't want to know the truth.
Breaking trust, breaking hearts.
Delivering from struggles.
If truth sets you free..why must it tear so?
It ties my hands as to what action I am supposed to perform now...
Truth, my one pursuit in this time..
Lies unite they also say.
But that security is false, false of course...
For it was falsehood itself that bound it together in the beginning.
I could believe with my whole heart......if but that one detail.
It screams at me in the middle of me trying to justify, explain and rationalize away this confusion...
...misunderstanding I pray thats all it is.
My instincts points to the worse..But I cant believe it...
But my wishes could be right...I beg them to be right.
I want to save you
Promise your true to me, please do not let those tears be ones of guilt..
...but healing tears of sorrow..sorrow of some misunderstandings.
I cannot defend a lie..a liar...it will be the undoing of us all.
- by shutupjaade |
- Poetry And Lyrics
- | Submitted on 02/17/2009 |
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- Title: Dear Diary
- Artist: shutupjaade
- Description: The poem without rhymes
- Date: 02/17/2009
- Tags: dear diary
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