Replicate

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
To get a better understanding of this, I shall provide a little backstory. I was at one point well on my way to being a bride of some sort. Young, naive, put content with my surroundings and content with my decision at that time. Well, the cards don't really agree with me some days, or at least most days, and all of that was ripped from me. This is a result.

Submitted: January 24, 2008

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Submitted: January 24, 2008

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Replicate
 
If I were to admit to the masses how I felt the day he was gone.
Nor belief or time can erase
The faith drained from my face
When I tried to equate confusion with acceptance
Exactly what was wrong with me
For I cannot seem to find what causes the collisions of my integrity
With the display, naïve to the world they may say
But I believe in the things that were once foretold
And I feel what I feel. Through here I express…
Open myself….despite the mess
I may seem to be at times when I explain
I only confide what I cannot change.
Life doesn’t seem to be on my side and I’m left to rearrange.
Coming or going yet it always fades to black.
Suffocate rather than breathe.
In the smoke I created.
And I’m back again, attempting to pinpoint what’s all wrong within me.
Masochism I swear, that’s my only plea.
Cause it’s all the same.
Cut deeper and the more I bleed.
The fight to not become triggers me to give so much, open my soul to the world.
And they take, they massacre, they mutilate the girl…
Who is trying to heal from the loss of before.
When I fall, I fall hard
But I honestly don’t know if I can jump anymore.
I believe there’s a reason.
Not sure as to what or why.
But I’m jaded to the point that I don’t feel myself cry.
It’s all common place…I just wait to hear them say.
That there’s too much going on, all them not me.
Now have a nice day.
Project the insecurities and watch them permeate through me.
I’m sorry I didn’t detach from my emotions
That’s my only apology.
And I look in the mirror and I watch her cry.
And I look in the mirror…it gets harder each time.
To see the tears pool around the base.
If the world never took him four years ago these images wouldn’t play…
Of her walking in the hospital, for them to say that he’s gone.
Of her walking in the church, it’s all black. Sing my song.
They cried, she cried.
And to the world I went numb.
Looking to the masses to prove that life and love won’t always end this way.
None ever come close.
None even bother to stay.
Strip me down to the minimum. Entertainment of the day.
As I look in the mirror…is it meant for me to exist this way?
 


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