valentine

 

The Prisoners

The dark tower looms over the city

Tall

Intimidating

Scary

Over the city of my mind

The prisoners, my thoughts that I lock away

So I force myself to smile

Which makes me forget for a while

That I hold the prisoners inside.

 

Some Speak in gibberish

Some speak clearly

They all were locked away out of fear that they’d escape

Some do, and they make me hate Wednesday.

 

The free ones are often boastful or silly.

They love to be in the spotlight and make a point that says yes,

Yes I’m intelligent,

Yes I know what I’m doing,

Yes I’m confidant I’m secure I’m happy

Some don’t know they’re lies.

 

The line between real life and wishes get buried when the line is on the basis of the question, “Am I a good person?”

Hypocrite, I scream out to you

The you that is me

The me that is you.

You always say to be kind to oneself, yet you never are.

 

I want all of my negative thoughts to fall into a pit of brussel sprouts and peanuts.

I hate the former and am allergic the latter.

If they fall in, I can’t reach them

The necessary negative ones can stay,

But then which ones are truly necessary?

Which “good” ones are necessary?

If every day, something changes, which one is actually unrealistic?

 

The tower still hangs over the city like a cloud.

The prisoners wish to drag me inside to devour me.

Most days I don’t consider it.

Some days, I do.