We pick at our wounds
Just to keep them bleeding
But we ignore
The tumors in our heart.
We make small talk
About the weather
Or about a game
Inconsequential nothingness
For criticism or blame.
Normalcy goes on
And nothing is changed
As reality festers underneath
Killing us all
With a long boring death.
There are no proper words
And no accurate measurement
For the price of estrangement
And cruel betrayal.
But anger is deadly
And disgust a disease
Eating away at our insides
Like sulfuric acid.
It is useless to suffer
But we do it anyway
As we ritually cut ourselves
For no reason at all.
I don’t know why
But it hurts even now
The careless words
That cut me in half.
But now, I did not boil
And now, I do not hate
I only shake my head
And smile.
I can see her sideways glance
Even now, I feel it
Fresh and exhilarating
The spirit far stronger
Like seawater on my face!
No comments:
Post a Comment