Saturday, May 14, 2016
Dark Doors. Cross Roads
I'm not a perfect person
Yes many know that but when u say it do u fully believe it?
I know I'm not a perfect person
I have flaws by the dozen
I let no one inside but has anyone taken the time to see why I am this way?
I may indulge some and tell them about me but I only ever allow them as close as I feel. In my lifetime I have learned that I have a way with words, maybe in not the most conventional way but a way with words nevertheless.
I have also learned that my life has been a series of dark doors and being alert to what is lurking from the corners.
I prefer not to allow anyone into my world in fear this darkness may too consume them as it did with me with so much ease.
I am told that darkness will not consume them but I know that it will because where I go the darkness goes, like two people locked in forever cuffs with each other. Neither fully trying to find a way out but when you do try it never works, you pull so hard to free yourself to be yanked back to where you think you belong because that's all you have ever truly known.
I'm good at hiding how I feel, this wall I have built throughout my life that will never be broken, though how I try it just rebuilds, it's never ending.
Is there hope for me possibly because we are taught to believe in some kind of hope but what if you no longer believe their is hope and shut down those who try then what? Where do you go from there? Your net at a cross roads stay in the darkness where you have come to know or venture down a new and unfamiliar path that scares you yet intrigues you.
Topic(s) of this poem: creepy