You don't want to know me
You don't want to be me
Someone going through the motions
Someone just living in a moment
Dreaming of something better
A nightmare of something worse
You don't want to know me
A poet at a loss for words
These pages filled with words
The ink bleeds through
And they all rip
Torn by the slightest touch
I could put them back together
But what's the point
The wind only blows them to pieces again
You don't want to be me
A writer with nowhere to go
Nothing worth writing
You don't want to be me
Someone who knows
He's going to die someday
Someone who sees darkness
In his death
Someone who's dreamed
His own funeral
Buried alive
Screaming
You don't want to see me
Dead eyes staring
Back at you
Can you see your reflection?
Do you hate your reflection?
I hate mine
Broke a mirror
How many years left?
I swear my heart was glass
Broken to pieces
Shards in my chest
Cutting
Bleeding
Tearing
Piercing
You can't fix it
Not without bleeding hands
Even then it's impossible
The pieces are too small
She crushed them to dust
And swept them away
There's nothing there
Anymore
Just an empty space
A void
No
You don't want to know me
You don't want to be me
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2 comments:
It seems the writer has really got hurt and that too, badly. A very sad or emotional post I should say. Well a few would want to know you because they are going through the same. Yes the can see their reflection in you. they would love to know you...... Nice one. Cu soon
Beautiful poetry. I always admire poets for the way they can express themselves in so few words. You definitely conveyed your feelings.
I plan to keep up with your blog
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