Sick Game

Pain is supposed to be something of endearment,
But somehow,
We have all become pain seekers,
Masochists that don’t avoid the pain of everyday actions we once knew was no good for our own well being.
We allow ourselves to wallow in self pity and pain like some sick game that we can never really win.
But we still continue to put a coin in and get upset when the clawed hand rips at our hearts but drops nothing for us to keep afterwards.
Just a permanent mental image of us banging on the door of our soul,
Trying to get a part back that we were never supposed to give away.
That same part that another peal of pain will rip away and fold back,
Giggling as it eats away at your life.
Silly Little Pain!!
You aren’t supposed to be anything to us for we keep ourselves guarded,
Never open.
Yet the feeling you always tried to avoid somehow creeps upon your shoulders,
Slowly changing your posture to mirror the appearance of failure,
Of unbridled pain upon someone’s carefully contained heart that cringes away from the sudden change of its feeling,
Morphing the look of contentment within to anguish and anxiety on the outside.
Pain controls the dials of life,
Making every single person a part of its own sick game.

AiM

Hate when I just cant put into words the stuff I be feeling cuz I really cant keep it hidden.
I just cant say them right now in a way that you can see what I mean.
Just wait.
Wait for me to see what I need and if you can really give it to me.
And if you cant,
Then you really have to let me free,
Don’t hold onto me.
Just let me go
Cuz you cant keep something that we both know couldn’t be meant to be.
And it is up to me.
No matter how much you think you love me,
This aint working.
I keep running and you run after me.
But this time,
You gotta stop.
And let me move on.
But I still love you.
Really I do,
And that’s why I cant keep you…

Secrets Kept Away

Could you really not hold back the deepest,

darkest,

innermost secretive truths?
Or is holding on just too painful,
Memories splashing around in your head,
Making you think things you dare not speak?
To my ear you say what you want,
What you have got and haven’t,
The thoughts making me wonder what I really mean to you?
My secrets are like hot balls of fire burning at the base of my throat,
Threatening to come bursting through to claim its rightful place in my life.
You never let me pour out my soul,

feed you my pains and agony.
I hear yours and that piles up on mine to make me sink.
I lift a few to throw overboard

but get more of yours and then some of my own.
I just hold onto my dreams,

my agony,

my secrets.