Living in a facade of strength,
but in reality, engulfed in nothing but humanlike perceptions
full of limitations and convulsions,
Unsure of what, but walking on an
which seemed to be leading me somewhere.
I hoped that i’d end up shaking hands with
a sure outcome.
a sure ideal.
Or, hopefully, a sure doctor?
Yet, there I was,
in a corner where all the paths I came across
entwined and gravitated
towards each other;
forming an impossible maze;
forming only one possible outcome.
There I remained,
Sitting in the back of all those art classes,
silently learning to paint on smile after smile
realistically enough for no human to
see the depth of these scars.
Shrugging my shoulders with
an eerie dust of:
‘I don’t cares’
and ‘I’ve come to accept its’,
waiting for that outcome to prevail.
There I stood,
next to a mute,
next to a mask
next to an empty shell.
Secretly trying to breathe the life back into it.
And now here I stay,
giving up on
the cage that she lives in
as I watch it attack itself.
As I stand hopelessly
praying for her to stop fighting
and move on.
Standing hopelessly changing my mind
about all those empty breaths she’s taking.
Here I resign, mama,
Looking at your skin lose its light,
watching it slowly
molding to the shape of your skull.
Standing by your bedside and
fighting the urge to shake your shell and yell,
“You’re fighting for a life that’s not worth living!
Put down your weapons,
Put them down gently and
raise your white flag because
you only exist to die.”