Poetry Page 3 - Yep- More Poetry (c) Me - Writers Writing - http://maxpages.com/ceriberi/Poetry_Page

do you ever tire of pretending?
hiding behind that mask;
who everyone expects you to be?
some days,
do you just get so sick of
that alter ego,
tired of being someone you're really not,
you let your guard down
for a minute and accidentally
(or perhaps subconsciously, purposely)
let some of who you really are
come through and show itself to the world.
and the first thing that everyone says
to you is "what's wrong?"
as if the true you has something
wrong with it!
and this has happened so often,
you begin to think
there really is something wrong
with the true you;
it's obvious everyone else
thinks there is; right?
so the walls built up around you
grow even higher, stronger
so the true you doesn't leak out again
and scare everyone.
and then you get bored.
there's nothing to do
in the tower you've locked yourself in;
brain's going numb from neglect
and heart aches with loneliness.
the you that you pretend to be
tries to tell everyone this;
they're your friends,
after all,
they should understand you,
right?
but either they're too ignorant
to notice or
you're too complex to understand,
because all you hear from them
again
is "what's wrong?"
and your self esteem sinks even
further into the ground,
as now you feel your alter
ego being rejected, too.
is there no one out there
who understands me,
you cry to yourself at night,
is there anyone out there who cares?
and then you begin
to think that
you don't even care anymore.
you don't know who you are anymore,
too wrapped up in the web you've spun
to figure out you're not trapped but
merely tangled up a bit.
you try to scream for help
but the words just echo
inside your head;
no one is ever around anymore.
and so you do what you do best:
sit and think.
things began feeling
unreal long ago;
source unidentified.
posessive and passive describe
your world; polar opposites, hypocrisies.
the future is unclear,
since you can't decide
which is the lesser of all evils.
old habits die hard,
and this one isn't giving up
without a fight to the death,
is it?
miserable in this world
you have created,
you can't even cry
because you're too stressed out
from it all.
bottles of prescription pills
far too tempting,
luckily not tempting enough
to surpass the fear of death
that shrouds your heart.
p.s.
thank you for listening.

The Pain- Date ???

The pain.
I can feel it growing stronger.
The pain.
I can feel it taking over.
My life.
I can feel it slipping away.
The light.
I feel myself pulling towards it.
And then
I think of you. It's a miracle.
My body
is pulling away from the light.
I can
hear you calling me.
I am
coming out of it.
And suddenly
'in the blink of an eye," I see
Your face.
And wonder why I
ever tried
to die.

Everything Herein (c) Sarahberry, 1999

ceriberi@hotmail.com

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Page Updated Fri Jan 31, 2003 3:13pm EST