You've seen one of the darkest reaches of my soul.
Please, and I beg of you,
Don't see me as something entirely broken.
The monster only wants you to do that,
So it has more of a chance to take over.
This part of me,
It's dark and it's cold,
Worst of all,
It's painfully lonely.
Being between this thing's teeth,
Is disgustingly tempting sometimes.
I am not broken because of it,
This wriggling animal,
That is merely apart of my mental unravelling.
I want this part of me fixed,
But I am not a broken person.
This reach of my soul,
It is broken,
It should not feel like this.
Objectify this creature within me,
And kill it or fix it,
Do as you please,
I don't care,
Just get rid of it.
The monster is not who I am.
That monster is not me.
The writhing of the monster inside,
It does not belong to me.
I will not fall victim,
To the inner demons that stole so many,
Too many innocent things.
The monster is not me,
And I am not the monster.
The monster is the creature.
The soul is the person.
I will be depicted as one,
And not the other.
CZYTASZ
Just A Mess
PoezjaI'm not too sure as to what this is, but I often get bored and lost in my thoughts, so why not write them out? As I wrote I created poetic sentences, lines and phrases. So, I hope they can be enjoyed despite their mainly heavy topics. This book cove...
