The worst thing you can do to me is to compare me to myself
To say that you like the older me better than this...less palatable version
I am bitter now salty and acrid resentful in your eyes
Jealous.
Of everything that you have, had, will have that when you read this again you would have faded into a tinted memory
Placed in a glass cabinet
Not for your protection
But to be broken open
To have sparkling shards puncturing your version of the truth
Your version of me
When you look down your face is a kaleidoscope
Deceivingly on the verge of beautiful
But if you look too close, too long, too far
Your eyes hurt, mind spins and shatters as fragile as memory, truth, lies
It hurts doesn't it?
Not knowing that you have fallen now
That one of those shards is now splattered with rouge
Puncturing what you were, are, will be
At least the kaleidoscope will look beautiful
It has more colour now.
Note:
You'll find me in the darkness if you aren't afraid to look
YOU ARE READING
The Battle Within
PoetryA book containing all my most heart felt poetry that I want to share with the world and just short stories I think of in general. Enjoy!
