Am I happy or am just distracted? Are you happy or you’re situational? What happens when you’re not actually broken? When you’re the breaker? But to Guage sanity, you create illusional victimization at the back of your mind? Is it really an illusion or did it really happen? Did you get broken as bad for real?
Got to a point where you gave it all up. Stopped dreaming better and embraced the trauma! Did you ever get to that point?
Did you quit school? Walk out of your marriage to seek solace in the ideation of peace?
Left home to kill your sorrows! Disappeared to be forgotten but somehow you’re still in contact. The universe keeps rotating you towards your fears. Do you still take anti-depressant pills or are you immune to them now? So there’s no way out for you. Were you the problem? Were you the victim? What were you? Collateral damage to a deadbeat environment? You love to sit alone when it’s heavy because talking is damn difficult. I have tried, and I know it is more difficult than it sounds. Talking gets you knocked out! Ask me!
What did you do at the pick? When you drowned but still kept breathing underwater. Haha, death rejected you huh?
Did you ever have friends? Did you try talking to them or was it as difficult as it was for me because you were obliged to be strong? Do you take care of everyone? But who takes care of you? Taking care is not feeding come on stupid people! That’s just the bare minimum. Talking suffocated you to the gut so you found distractions for sanity.
And where there wasn’t a distraction, you churned chaos, because chaos is a relief for demons inside of you. You feel powerful in a second of foolish Victory!
Or did you sabotage your spark, self-harm maybe? What have you done to yourself!? Trust me, tell me where you hid your scars.
You feel like you’ve fallen too far, you don’t deserve saving. You can’t ask for help either, you can’t get out now. You’re trapped in your own insanity! You rather run than face it.
Sucks to be you! You don’t know how to face your own image in the mirror. However the mirror is not the real enemy, it’s the reflection. So if I stare too long at the mirror I recognize some juice on my face. I heard it’s called tears but no, I never cry, never have, probably never might!
But the bottle I sucked the bitterness in is full now and the flame I held is pouring from my chest down to my stomach. It’s burning up my organs in ways fire can’t burn me?
Does hell feel that hot or it’s just overrated?
Huh! You! You’re scared to tell me you’re not happy because I am happy. So you wine in my joy or whatever this is you see when you look at me. A golden girl with an artistic body, natural charisma and the smile of a lothario, lying hands and seductive lips, eyes of a demon and the mind of a serial killer with a good heart. Haha! It’s out of place to be the only one who doesn’t feel this happiness on my face so you love me beyond words to calm your demons to sleep. You’re obsession with me justifies your ticket to hell without struggle. Idolized an idea you’ve created you refuse to see am poison. But you’ve survived suicide so murder isn’t so bad of an idea. The lion at the back of your soul threatens the wolves in my mind but mine is quite closer because it’s at the front. So I can charge at you anytime, but I won’t kill you! Death offers more peace than you deserve, so I’ll ruin your physic. It’s not hate. But all the while we laughed together my soul wept and now the demons are winning. I had no outlet! Kept it all inside me thinking I had control. It was a simulation but now am living it. Walking on eggshells and not hurting anyone is a bad life to live. So now I wear heels to burst the eggs. Judge me if you have to! Right my wrongs in the way you feel fit. Unleash the beast to tame mine! Owh sorry, I fed mine while you starved yours.
Am I the problem? Am I the broken? Did it really happen or a lie repeated a million times become reality?
The flame doesn’t set me on fire,I am the fire! But you my friend, You are the saint who still sought righteousness. So I won’t speak for you today. I’ll speak to you MNH!
When am too far gone beyond your reach, staring at my mirror. I spent too long there to know my image somewhere in between that mirror still lingers in reflections. It’s witnessed more bad than good. Because when I couldn’t cry, I watched my soul cry in the mirror. Locked in the weakling and got out strong because my shadow was locked in my magic mirror. Remember you called me and kept mum for a minute, then laughed and sed hi. I found solace in the minute of your silence. I spoke to the parts of you that kept silent in the frequencies. I found you in your silence! I sought you in the unspoken! But here we still are, living in the flames we set, trying to burn our traumas to the ground, all along we were the actual trauma.
So am I the problem or it’s just yet another fallacy in art!? The brain of a goddess demands to be worshipped. Or maybe everything I ever wrote is the blood I couldn’t bleed when cut and the tears I never let fall over the years.
Still, I sit still and glare at the art on my skin, thinking that maybe this illusion keeps me sane. Because this way I have a connection to the universe! Because pain is closer than the smiles behind the camera. I seek solace in your gnawing turmoil, that way you can at least listen when I drop the pen! Because that’s my only language.ART described in parables you’ll never unravel even if you tried!