My eyes are windows to my soul,
But I wouldn't know what my soul looked like
If it came up and slit my throat.
I'm on a mission with no objective
Out to prove, that my words
My thoughts, my emotions
Mean nothing.
At least, nothing to you.
This aura of sadness of
"there-must-be-something-wrong"
of "you-haven't-been-yourself-lately."
Permeates my existence
Contaminating everything I touch
I write, I sing
With its rancid stink.
I wonder what the others think.
My broken, ill-written thoughts
Are stilted and nonsensical
But they are truth
And like any sword
It cuts deep
Cutting, ah, such a silly pass time
A silly game you play
With your safety pins and razor blades
A silly drugless addiction
You spoke of the rush
Of the blinding pain
Distracting from the torment of the invisible
How could you have been so stupid?
But now that I think of it,
What makes me any different?
Nothing.
My smiles and laughter are hollow and plastic
Like the bottles that hold the pills
The ones that I ate like vitamins and candy
Only by the grace of God I still walk the earth today.
Only by the grace of your forgiveness, you still consider me your friend.
The whole world forgives me--
But I cannot forgive myself
I'm a filthy
Worthless liar
Every smile is a lie
Every laugh is another falsehood born
Every action is just an act, one of my beautiful illusions
My beautiful delusions, with which I held you captive by your interest
When you could have saved your attention for something
For someone real
For someone beautiful
For someone who deserves that interest
Why cant you see me for the sinister, fork-tongued, two-faced hypocrite that I am?
Loving me is a blemish on your resume.
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Submission Name: Blemish on your Resume
