Sickness of the Naïve
Certainly, I know the answer
a black panther waiting for a bell to ring
with all this silence.
I knew there was something wrong
when my hurt was always fresher than the truth
and a grey dust from the beginning of life
began to settle on out shoulders.
These months are numberless aches
with 2-hour breaks into unconsciousness.
Always broken, awoken by sweat making a path
down the valleys of my body
as I try to cleanse away the burning hate.
And I am so cold I want to set myself alight,
To bask in the only flame I can make.
How can there be so many questions
When so few linger here?
This poison seeping out of me
And finally you tasted it,
another promise fallen through
another blanked page in my book;
I could name you all
Names and dates and words and lies and pain
but nothing would change.
I’m sick of being naïve,
and the trust has stolen the floor I stand on one time too many.
Hope may live on through others
but I want to resign
I want no name, no body, no soul, no life
I want to be nothing
to become what you all see me as.
© PickledSparklyMoosePrincess – author