Him

Him. A three letter word that titles my biggest distraction.

My largest secret. 

My most unfiltered thoughts. 

 

I don't know how these feelings and excuses came to be titled Him,

but sometimes I wish life were a piece of paper so that I could 

erase Him from inbetween the lines. 

 

However, I'm just as bad at talking about him as I am writing about him. 

If my mouth were a pencil, its lead would break. 

If my toungue were a sheet of paper it would be soggy and frail,

drenched in all of the words that can be used, but can't begin to

contend with how I really feel.

 

Instead of being anything with the ability to present whats on my

mind, my mouth has become a binder holding hole punched feelings.

My mouth has become an important sheet of paper stuck in a sheet

protector, to keep my heart safe.

It has even managed to become a frame, holding what I picture  when

I hear the word Him and think the word Us.

 

You see my mouth has become everything except for what I need it to be.

My most needed part of me is bailing.

My mind is screaming, but the locked cage known as a mouth, won't

open and allow the screams to be heard.

 

An amazing author once wrote, "There are different ways to die.

There's jumping off a roof and then there is slowly poisoning yourself

with the flesh of another everyday."

 

As a person who ops for the quick and painless, I can all but prove to you

that I would rather jump than allow Him to echo in my thoughts for the

rest of my already pitiful life.  

This poem is about: 
Me

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