My Own Chains

Eighteen years gone by and most is forgotten – recorded on no parchment seen in no photos – time to change it all be who I want until what I want becomes distorted with trying to blend in – ignore yesterday’s mistakes until they become today’s just with a new name – the Yakima summer fling that the parents never met becomes the Army boy fresh out of boot – no way to change it and no wish to if I could – mistakes are more colorful than perfection try to be what I think they want until nobody wants it – can’t blame them for dislike when I dislike myself – only I can change the inside but that is hard when my eyes see a stranger in the mirror – time flies away from my grasp – away into the night – earth rotates sun rises & sets – but nothing reverses – eyes of distrust warn others away – join at ur own risk – I promise nothing – but distrust changes – as footsteps fade away – changes to longing – longing to break the habit – of sitting alone – living alone – the distrust changes but it does not leave – barriers of the soul remain – guarding against attack but aching for someone – anyone to tear them down because I cannot -collection of pieces – unorganized patterns of chaos – ramblings of a mind long since lost – lost to madness – to the currents of echoing time – the past does not foretell questions with no answers – answers become shadows – uncertainty becomes certain – predictable terror of white eyes – can blind eyes express terror – I don’t know – I am not blind – but in truth I am – my own agenda blinds me from myself – I have been that girl for too long – the one that is afraid others will see her – the girl in a corner surrounded by people but so sad & alone – the one that smiles so that she can forget the tears that want to flow – the tears that she will bury inside until she is alone where no one can see the weakness that leaks – leaks from her eyes – the girl that watches a knife & wishes to push just a little harder against it – against the hand holding it because maybe if she bleeds it will reassure her that she is real not a ghost that no one sees – at least then she might have a chance of someone taking pity on her & reading a few of her words before they drift away from her mute face when they realize words in ink on parchment are all she has ever let herself use.

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