It feels like I’ve spent eternity
searching for falseness in the melody
that for all its purposes is a remedy
from gluttony that consumed my mind
cursing me to be “the one of a kind”
literally.
The whines from “normals”, cries for help
loneliness are consuming them,
solitude healing. The singular soul’s reeling
bewildered but the ungrateful welp
who hasn’t got a slightest idea …
mutiny.
The sweetest taste of exquisite hell
is impossible to shake from dreams
or to tell how gorgeous the demons are
the scar has been worn, like a precious jewel
and when the mewl slips comes shame
viciously.
Still, if it’s all the same to you, I’d like to live
for as long as I can drag myself through dirt
and convert hurt into abnormal pleasure
without boundaries or measure; stuck…
in the state of being human, accepting unique
unity.
“Scar has been worn like a precious jewel”.. Oh.. How deep
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you
LikeLiked by 1 person