THE MASK


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.

Omnipotence emerging
From a seething mass of emotions
A dam built around the hurt
Which no words can dissolve.
Self destructing some may think
My complexities
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.

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