Is it me?
Am I the one?
I keep wondering who will save me,
or at least try to. . .
This terror rips through my heart
like an assassin’s dagger,
or maybe my own. . .
Could I be the cause?
The reason I am destined to fail?
I cannot escape it,
this pain, this aching.
I hide behind smiles, obsessions,
with no one seeing the truth,
the honesty behind this mask.
I dare to defy the world
dreaming of this love I long for,
only to continually reach out
into the darkness of this vision,
desperate for the emotions
spelling out the name I would call.
I cannot hide from the horrible reality,
it presses daily against my glass wall.
The cracks spidering across the surface
as I am powerless to stop it.
It’s supposed to end, go no further,
but like this failed life of mine,
it continues without hindrance.
Is this all I am?
Is this truly who I am?
This conniving thief whose falsehoods
spill from her lips like a corrosive acid?
What is the reality here?
Am I the scum of the earth
I so feared becoming?
Strength is my fantasy,
the wall of imagery
that surrounds this tainted soul
unable to resist temptation.
Broken up and locked away
the heart inside beats erratic,
desperate to live yet terrified of life.
This woman I am so longing to be
is beginning to fade away.
I reach for myself
only to feel the image disappear
like grains of sand through my fingers.
For all the grand adventures I desire,
the love I long for,
I will remain as I am:
Nothing. . .
“For who could ever love a beast?”
© Johanna Fugitt 2017