Troubled times such as these
bring about insulation
A state quite familiar to me.
Perfect peace on the window sill
Dangerous calm on the surface
No blood flow to that vital centre
generating thoughts that kill.
From a seething mass of emotions
A dam built around the hurt
Which no words can dissolve.
Self destructing some may think
They cannot solve.
Never realized that I was dead.
Never said that I was not.
The wound ate itself deep
poison spread as emotions fought.
there I lay bleeding invisibly
till the life poured out of me.
And still I lie smiling in my bed
and they never know
They are living with the dead.