Psychotic Indulgences

so lost, confused and torn she stands before her judge
so hollow, heartbroken and teary eyed
a rose frozen in the bud dangles from the decaying bush
tempted ever so gently by the warm touch of that that they call love...
a half attempt at blossoming internally
deep inside the pit of a delerious depression
desolate and seperated from all things known to be reality

quietly surrounded by hounding perversions
things she cannot escape
what feels real passes as if dreams wander and knit together with the world
the one outside of her mind, the one she shuns
it's inability to care has left her alone and calloused to cries of innocence

even those who truly care get burned when they get to near
her heart is guarded by walls and labyrinths made from the broken pieces
only a small portion can be reached, touched, warmed
but only for a moment does this ever occur
the slightest inclination of feeling forces the veils closed again
shrouding it inside a darkened whole filled with numb buzzing

she wants to feel, but only if it is joy
for if even the slightest amount of sadness were to seep in
surely she would die
though she is strong nothing can mend the pain of adornment lost
those that have tried get antagonizingly cast away
punishing those closest to her, if there is a closeness to be felt

feeble tricks abide by the rules of the puppeteer
staring at her all the while, cackling as if her torment is playground
marry-go-rounds that never cease their spin, swings of barbbed wire
fences too tall for entry or exit
banished into her own mind, no link to emotion
withering away in the cell of a mind gone mad

insane, no, insanity is too simple to be used here
the insanity of fractured thoughts, hopes, and dreams have made her sane
then borderline, then schitzophrenic in cases
two pieces of a mind never agreeing to disagree
torn for two different people...not those around her, those inside her

does she dare unlock the vault?
become vulnerable again?
will the accquirement of feeling be worth the cursed tears?
or does she remain cold, dead inside, unable to know right and wrong
love and hate two words so different, yet so similar in defintion
either way ends in an infatuation with death itself
things she could experience again before she dies
or dying without truly knowing the extent and righteousness of loving

two have attempted to pry her from this state of monotony
both have succeeded, then grips loosened
"triumph" was lost

will she awaken from her ready made tomb of mentality?
or will she simply sleep on until she disappears and fades just like her dreams?