I’m not the shell
I’m the thing that’s hidden inside
In the fragile state of mind and being
I cry.
Cry to be set free
Cry to come out of my shell
Cry to be able to wipe my own tears
Cry to be able to face my fears.
But all I do is cry
Never having the courage
To at least give it a try.
Why ain’t I strong enough
To face these daggers?
Why am I compelled to hide
In my self-created darkness?
Why do I have to rest in the arms of security?
Why am I not brave enough to face a single obscurity?
The dead neurotic cells have gone numb.
They’ve had enough than they already should
Hardening to form my armor, my shell
Deafening me from all the yells.
I’m not the shell.
I’m the thing inside.
The thing that’ll live on
To die.
4 comments:
Damn, I'm not good at writing comments, but that's just marvellous... mostly because I can empathize with this poem, I know what you mean... really nice work. And I also want to thank you for the nice words! ;) Even if I'm not commenting very often, I'll ready every poem of yours... keep 'em coming! ;)
"The thing that'll live on to die"
This is just :o I don't know where to start. I love this... I see so much of myself in it. It's your best. I love it. <3
aww!! thank you guys!! :)
Lone Poet, I know the feeling. even i run out of good words while commenting on poems by other poets. Thanks for those lovely words... I really appreciae it.. and u better keep ur supply of amazing poetry :)
Becc, i dont know what to say!! All this coming from you, im actaully flattered!! I have always admired your works.. and i'm soo glad u like my works!! :)
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