I've got a fever inside,
burning my skin alive,
I just want to become the monster,
but I end up like Frankenstein,
trying make everything,
alright,
I fight the demon,
all this darkness inside,
then I turn from a Jekyll,
wanting to run away,
and hide.
There's no way to explain this,
no words to describe,
no may to make you understand,
what it feels like to be alive,
when I feel like I want to die.
We can't decide how to make amends,
with our own sore and tired,
dissonance.
I wish I was real.
I was was just in your imagination,
I am not one to complain.
I am not one to take,
I am just in pain,
I realize I am broken,
I know my words when spoken,
I know my silence,
I know my place.
I've got this burn, underneath my skin,
it wants to shred me free,
I feel the emptiness,
from deep down,
inside,
of me.
I fight my angel,
bringing me back,
as I rip apart,
wings,
where I once had shoulders,
strong like the claw,
of a raven.
There's no way to tell them,
how much it hurts,
when they already know everything,
about pain.
Submitted: November 29, 2020
© Copyright 2021 Dr. Acula the friendly Ghost. All rights reserved.
Comments
What a beautifully crafted disturbing piece Doc...
I am beginning to understand your method and your dark themes and it is becoming clearer to me just how talented you truly are.
Loved it !
Strong images in this, Doc. Relatable too.
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Kemy2U
I am comprehending the self-reflection of your beautiful musing, a very nice read my handsome poet
Sun, November 29th, 2020 3:29amLove and Hugs,
Kemy