Enigma-- FORMATION OF LIFE

 Speak to me
through the words flowing from my mouth.
I never seem to know where they're going.
Feeling the gravity begin to pull me down,
every thing inside of me, is left open.
You tear through every feeling I have left,
watching through hollow eyes
as it all spills out-
Everything within me.

Will you pick up the pieces as they begin to fall?
Put me back together again:
that’s my only chance until you're forced to mourn.
I feel self-medicated with these tools you have given me.
Tools to dig inside myself,
and inflict pain.
Your coldness pierces throughout,
making it all run wild.
Calm and lovely emotions course through me.
Lying so close to me,
is something I really need.
An idea, a clue, a dream:
you.

Can you wake me?
You were the one I thought would help.
Now the long strands of hair
cover my confused expression.
You never saw what lay deep inside my eyes,
you're only staring a hole through me time after time.
Don't you want to know what controls me?
I ask for you to feel my face again.
Look at me with all your soul.

Tell me
just how to let myself go.
Please let me follow you home . . .
The sun comes . . . and goes,
leaving me with sadness.
The moon is my only refuge:
it covers my shame inside it's darkened glow.

I feel so afraid.
I will never escape these feeling I've exposed
or the riddles of thoughts beside me.
Too many tears fill the rain clouds above my head.
Just close the door;
leave me alone.

I can see myself losing control.
My vision spins:
lights, tables, chairs . . .
The dimness draws me near.
Red crimson begins to arise. Blood flows in a pool,
into lines that become meaning-
Signs that everything was meant to go wrong.

I'm useless, mindless, thoughtless, careless,
a poser.
I pretend to be what I'm not . . . all to please.
Until the next time,
another piece of me is used up and dies.
Diseased is what you have become,
a leper beside a normal one.
You've made me search inside
to find a new form to rebuild.
I hope I convinced myself
that your presence was a gift:
forcing me to reshape and mold.
When I can't see myself in a broken mirror,
that's when the frame can become whole again.
Then I'll display an enigma of what once stood-
A shadow of a better "man.”