Me, On The Inside Poem by Blake Porter

Behind these blue soul portals,
Lies hidden something,
Something no one ever gets the chance witness.

On the outside there appears to be a kind boy,
Loving and caring and unable to harm a fly.
Everyone perceives the kid that teaches CCD on Sundays,
The one that coaches flag football for three months out of the year.

Everybody sees the adolescent faking trying my best in school,
The character that spends time with my family and appears to be enjoying it.
But under all that,
Lies something utterly diverse.

There is a boy, who died inside,
Years ago, when I was cursed with sickness,
Who is on a never ending quest,
Searching for happiness,
And the sensation of being alive.

Swearing the Graphite on the compressed tree,
Flowing from the Mind to the Hand,
Imagination running wildly,
My heart twitters a bit

At times swiftly traveling down the paved race way,
Swerving between the innocent,
Stopping only when red is seen,
Bestows the slightest feeling of life within.

Abusing God’s most holy sacrament,
Going against my parents laws,
Doing something I should have waited to experience,
There is a fragment of delight in my heart.

In the virtual world,
Wasting away days of my precious life,
Slaughtering the poor souls on the other end of an electric current,
A tiny rush is granted to my soul.

Expression in the form of musical reverberations,
Hitting keys on the music box,
Goosebumps run up the onlookers spines,
A minuscule emotion of bliss over takes my corpse.

But on the same surface of these blue soul portals,
Nothing but lies are shown,
Something everyone sees,
Everyday they see me.