The Beast of Mind

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Heh..

Submitted: December 22, 2012

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Submitted: December 22, 2012

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Within the time and place of dullness, old routine,
Of still part innocence with eyes glued to the past,
Of the unwillingness of my will and personal confusion,
Amidst the changes, big and small, within my mind and soul,
Seemingly from nowhere there came a beast of mind.
A dreadful creature, sheathed in black, oozing malice and escape.
Eyes soft and sharp, hands tender and cruel
Fangs dripping with the blood of victims he made prefer to be dead.
A sickness of the mind, a greatly feared disease.
For everything, though I thought nothing, was too much for me.
My own isolation, perhaps the work of others, but mostly my own hand.
The stress began to concentrate and build, and I looked upon myself
With confusion, a touch of hatred, and no small amount of disgust.
The beast took my mind as its own, and used it
To speak to me in my own voice about everything being my fault.
My self-esteem at an all time low and my ability to hide began to grow.
I hid my feelings, I hid my mind, from others and myself,
And all the while the beast began to show.
The signs are subtle, but begin to show themselves.
And so I learned and looked upon myself to see
Just how much this beast had ahold of me.
I saw constant sadness and regret, fatigue and hopelessness,
I saw me bringing myself down and down and always saying no.
I saw guilt, confusion, even anger, mindless irritability.
All these things and more I saw, looking upon myself.
I became afraid, with this monsters grip on me.
Two causes perhaps, and by the cause of me;
Social isolation one, dislike in my own quality, the other.
How very rarely had I cried before.
The sadness and the stress the monster gave to me
Built up to madness and came slicing down
In long red strokes of misery.
The beast was winning, so I fought,
Never again, never again I thought
But again the madness built, and came crashing down on me.
I needed help, this I knew, but refused to go and get it.
I hid myself inside something almost real but partly fake.
For so long my heart, too, had been tied up.
Despite all this I fought and began to feel better
And the beast retreated deep inside.
A time of mental health and almost happiness,
But still my mind was showing itself deep,
And holes remained within my confusing heart.
I began to turn myself around, seeing who I was,
Looking in a mirror finally and fighting for myself
Within my very being and willing it to come out.
A day of joy, heart came up, love came up,
Days of joy and all the while I fight to be me.
I faced my mind, I faced my heart,
I began to speak my mind and voice it all.
I tell myself I’m happy, and for once I know I’m right.
Marks will fade to scars, which will forever linger
(And always with them I’ll remember)
But the beast remains and reaches out
With fingers lulling and full of memory.
And yet I do not know if there was a real reason.
My hearts continue to chase it away
And my happiness tears it down.
Yet still my times alone are dark,
And it may never go away.
The cure for my sickness of the mind is love,
And I’ll fight for it, fight for myself,
And I will hide the right things.


© Copyright 2018 ninjacat42. All rights reserved.

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