Insanity crawls through my veins
and, like a magnet,
draws all that I am
into this hard outer shell,
laughing at attempts
to prise me open.
There was a time
when aspirations of beauty
were angels and fairies,
but soon truth opened my eyes,
scraping away any rational thought,
scorching childish dreams to ashes.
I'm left with mocking faces
that laugh loudly,
as they shove clarity's harsh words
down this sewer of denial.
Now fetid and decaying,
I'm poked and prodded
as a medical curiosity;
their canvas of Rubens.
But my madness slaps them wildly away.
They'll not enter my lunatic world.
My survival kicks away their spades.
I'm both the king and queen
of this demented world.
Can I say this is all your fault?
Your perfection has left me emotionless,
both seething and crying,
as your expectations
danced silently on my spirit,
until eventually I'm a lifeless form
filled only with thoughts of escape.
But you wouldn't know,
for your soundless displeasure
plucked away the urge to live.
A contest entry
- Confessions of a poet gone mad by requiempoet.
1600 points, ended November 13, 8 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please Tell Me What You Think
Comments
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Your Third stanza
stands out in this write. It is scary, it is sad, and somewhat emotionally draining. To feel these emotions is what poetry is all about. You've done well here.
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But my madness slaps them wildly away.
They'll not enter my lunatic world.
My survival kicks away their spades.
I'm both the king and queen
of this demented world.
Can I say this is all your fault?
Your perfection has left me emotionless,
both seething and crying,
as your expectations
danced silently on my spirit,
until eventually I'm a lifeless form
filled only with thoughts of escape.
This describes me almost to a T. I don't express myself except negatively because I don't want people who are closest to me to understand me...that would just create...more problems. Thank you for your entry.
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