When the tastes and sounds don’t match

to the illusion I’ve found of you

and reality is blending


staining and saturating,

mistrust ensues.

What’s in my mind

but a demon scratching and tearing

at an old wound

tearing me wide open.

I can’t feel what is true

and I try to listen

and the  minute I get better

I fall completely apart.

You are and I am

truth and lie

and I’ve taken all of this

wrapped it in a blanket of fuel

set fire to it with my doubt,

threw it in your face.

And I’m sorry you burn while I feel


I can’t be planted

not with rotted roots

I can’t be planted

and grow inside your light.

I want to say goodbye

inside I die

and every fight is to be alive.

I can’t live and be rotted

with this indecision

this illusion

this adoration and anticipation

of when I am right.

but I’m broken and the pieces don’t fit right

and I can’t tell what is wrong and what is not.

And if you have a magic that will put me back together

I’m holding on by a thread that is unraveling

faster than your generous heart is.




Author: doing2016

I started writing when I was very young. Then I was mortified on a bus full of people when one of my stories was read aloud. I lost my focus and quit. Now, I'm trying to find my voice and my ambition. I love to write, good or bad. So, I'm doing it here and now. Thank you.

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