What Do You Know?

Confused and/or vain,

Evil and/or repugnant,

Count the discrepancies

And steel yourself for more.

Perceptions are abundant

As insults and judgments,

And finding fit words

For yourself is a chore.

Impressions are often biased,

Labels often fall short,

Even platitudes of passion

And support miss their mark.

Life would be so muddled,

So indiscernibly complex.

Simplicity is transgression,

We’re beyond light and dark.

Solitude in expression

Mirrors bolder without eyes.

Honesty is easy

With an audience of one,

But self-revealed truths

Fall flat upon the senses

Leaving deep and shallow guesses

The best from anyone.

 

 

Secret Plague

Nobody knew

The extent of the infection

Brewing deceptively

Beneath heavy lidded eyes.

Neurons distorted,

Broken down, reassembled,

Gestating contamination

In unsightly disguise.

Nobody knew

What sickness subverted

Their pallid perceptions

And drowned them in doubt.

Walking around

As raised from the dead,

Buried in the head

And lost their way out.

Nobody knew

Who they should find

Or what sort of mind

Gave voice to their soul.

Helpless health

Sealed snugly in disease

And quarantined beneath

A plea to be alone.

I Wish I Could’ve Been Myself

What was personified and what was genuine

Are so terribly mixed, I’m unsure.

That which bewilders is beset

With doubt between what’s real and pure.

Make-believe and masquerade

My many truths beffudled in mystique.

A sample of a splinted soul

Shrouded in saturations oblique.

Deciet drawn with smiles

To distract from fractured truths.

My naked self encased away

In case of breakage or missuse.

Secrets so nobody knows

The depths of misery I contain,

The shame and weakness

I consume and in my fear sustain.

I wish that I had been myself

But being myself, what a mess was made.

A look beneath my stained visage

Betrays the oceans I’ve kept restrained.

It’s coming soon, I must confess,

My will and levies are going to break.

So when I finally be myself

My tears might drown away my aches.

Persona and Identity

Persona vs Identity

Both more or less complex

Patterns, habits, and daydreams coalesce

Conscious acts and sub-conscious desires

 

Stare into the abyss

Reflections of war-like aggression

Jealous and sick with obsession

A stubborn will and icy heart

 

In paradox afflux

A Soul sensitive to touch

Brittle, and broken too much

Weak and crippled with toxicity

 

Accordingly and as such,

Conflicting passions run amock

Madness in emotions stuck

Paralyzed by determined chance

 

In trance or thought

Passivity mingles with distress

Shameful needs be addressed

Compelling, or just dwelling

 

In purer moments

All complexities relax

Heart and mind re-interact

And passion kindles brightly

 

Failures fall away

Proclaiming my essence

Assured of my vital presence

I’m deliberate, I’m awake

 

Pieces all in place

To know and love what I’ve become

To realize and overcome

Re-associative embrace

 

Accepting my entirety

All my fragments in contradiction

In defiance of definition

Thriving as chaotic force

 

The Whole vs The One

Many millions may there be

Maybe none of them are me

Or maybe it doesn’t matter

 

 

 

 

 

 

All The People In My Head

Some of them are funny, some of them are mean.

Some of them will only appear in my dreams.

Some like to go fast, others like it slow.

Some of them I hardly ever get to know.

This one is cynical, that one is meek.

This one’s just shy and too scared to be week.

That one is sensitive, this one is cruel.

He likes pretending that he makes the rules.

Sometimes they’re passive, sometimes they’re not.

Sometimes they’re anxious and screaming a lot.

A few are well-liked but most are despised.

Quite a few hide themselves with disguise.

This one is nice, she’s calm and she’s sweet.

That is wicked with malice and deceit.

Lustful are some while others are chaste.

One of them loves to feel tears on her face.

Some of them conflict, they don’t get along.

They pull me away from the place I belong.

They argue about me, they fill up my head.

They whisper to each other while I’m in bed.

Sometimes they’re helpful, sometimes they’re mean.

Sometimes they find myself in my dreams.