Overshadowed

There will always be a place
For the anger in my soul
But as I hear your anger, dear
I can’t feel mine there at all.

Whip

I see you with your whip of words
Your scourge of flesh and feelings
You flog yourself but I’ve never heard
Of one victim in such dealings.

Damaged

I told myself that I was more together
But all this time I’ve just been damaged
And every time I pulled away
I claimed was so as not to end up bandaged,
Not realizing that only pain
Could be the reason that I sit here ravaged
By a fear that will not go away
Of the loneliness I’ve barely managed.

Escape Artist

Today I want my kings and castles;
Or sorcery, or laser rifles;
I want a world that isn’t mine
Where I’m more me than I’ll ever be
In the world waiting for me outside.

Curiosities

I kill my curiosities,
Lest they reveal my mediocrities:
For while I play the part of human being,
I still am nothing but a changeling.

Reliance

There is anger in your chidings;
Worry in your voice.
When life sends out its tidings,
What will be my choice?

Will I make a grand mistake
And then come crawling back to you?
Is it more than you can take
That I’m not one, but two?

We’re like Buffy and Giles,
Or like the Winchester brothers:
We share tears and smiles
Until it begins to smother;

Until the lines begin to blur,
And I rely too much on you.
Yet still I hope that you will be there
When I don’t know what to do.

Unsure

I wish I knew the things to say
And how to act when I’m too afraid
But though I want to be there, come whatever may,
I’m still just the little girl whose hair you used to braid.

Nothing Real

I’m mourning what I’ve never mourned;
I’m losing what I’ve never had.
I’m drowning in a feeling
That I worry is a fad.

I’m surrendering to a sound
Like the combination of a breaking heart
And that ghost that hangs around,
Who likes to materialize and call it art.

I’m waiting for eternity;
Afraid that I don’t really mind,
Because I want to be the hero
But know I’m not the heroic kind.

I’m watching for a moment
To turn a blind eye;
Because maybe it’s heroic
To continue to cry.

---

Song of the day: Drowning, by Stabbing Westward.

Chrysalis

I’m waiting, ever waiting;
Sleeping out my life.
I cannot wake… why should I wake?
Much better is the dream,
Where I don’t have to lie awake
While waiting for my drying wings.

On Broken Glass

You say the words as if
You’ve never acted on it:
That voice;
That feeling.
You say the words as if
There’s not a wall that bears your mark:
A hole;
A scar.
You say the words as if
No one ever hears you;
But I do.
I do…

So then, why don’t you?