Possession Is Real

Mon, 08/28/2017 - 09:08 -- MVirgo

Before you read this, know one thing; I was not myself when I wrote this, and I am not one to write so negatively. I hope you take into consideration that I was dealing with a soul breaking revelation that left me helpless and dead inside, but now that I've recovered...I would like to share such a poem with you all. Heed these words; do not read this if you're feeling low. :) 

 

Crushed beneath debris that cannot help but crush me. What has my life come to for this to be called serenity, I cannot muster up the words, “Help me”, so now I fall into a slumber completely. Blackness, darkness, nightmares run amuck. Noting the suffocation, compression, depression clinging onto myself like a wet cloth, HOW can I tell one that I am not okay, without becoming a delay to something important. How can I udder the words of plea, when I cannot understand the stress and grief? I am chained to the rhythm of brokenness, HOPE lost to destruction, and bitterness. Can I say that I am too late, help missing like the tune of a bell ringing in a well with echoes? I croak on the broken glass I once stood on, oblivious to the nature of danger, the paper my heart was created from, HOW fragile can I truly say I am, when I don’t even know who I am, and yet my brain suffers from delusions, hallucinations, emancipation…I am in a jail I created. Real talk right quick…I did not pick where I would exist, and yet here I am in a hell created by bitter cells surrounding everything I thought of as swell…I am created, and there is no looking back, SO I deserve the punishments that will break my very back, and DON’T YOU SILENCE IT, I deserve this, and It will happen. I am entitled to distraught. JOY? In what world, that joy is not something I need…I need what was meant for me since I was brought into this world. I need a break, OH, but breaks do not happen for those who are blind, weak, silent, beat, I need to see, but my blood SEEPS into the cracks of broken creation. I am loss in my own words, because I do not own those words that may never be heard. I am not me, but simply them! I am HIM, but not him at all. Who is him, I am not sure. Let’s talk real right quick…I was created by others choices, made to go into a hell, and I can’t tell you how or why this will happen. I thought of it like a spell, because magic seems to exist in our minds, well…no…it’s a CURSE! I feel as though I am going to burst, or worse…I may never die. I don’t deserve to cry, because those tears are not mine, and I don’t get to ask why…It is not my turn to pry, but simply WATCH. WATCH this world burn into the treachery that it will soon be…I exist because of others bitter choices, now doomed to a fate I can’t escape. I am made in the image of Jesus, and man…. I don’t think that was his plan. I am who I am, but did that MAN know this would happen…. of course. I am who I am, and I ram the rust of my mind off of my timeline, hoping that I may turn all this grime back into diamonds…I am doomed to torture, and I accept it, because I don’t deserve choice, THAT decision to save my soul, was but a sacrifice of love for those who deserve it! FRIENDS? FAMILY? Who deserves my serenity, who deserves my love, and honesty? I am but a tragedy waiting to be forgotten in today’s insanity. I laugh. I cannot gaze at the families, couples, friends, and levels of passion these people around me can enjoy, and yet I wait to DIE in this horror scene, I can’t scream myself out of! What can I say…. What can I do? I have no CONTROL, matter of fact, no CLUE to what I am doing here…. How can one be so sure of one’s death…? I am a pest brought here by pests, a RAT created, no SHAT into this trash dump of a world that was once luxury…Pity me? Don’t make me laugh…But I already have. I am who I am, and I can’t tell you how I am who I am, because I did not make me, and yet here I am DAMNED by this world, and the creator…savior? Hm…I am unable to be saved…I don’t deserve it, and I’ve accepted it…Love…Yes…I do…but I learned that by me being here…I couldn’t choose. I feel a limbo coming on, winding and winding, repetitive streaming, I am lost and bleeding…I CAN NOT ESCAPE THIS DREAMING…where will I go…? I was created and put here out of hope, lost here now and nowhere to go, because I had a vision that was broken, and now without my token I am gone and done with. I am doomed to hell, I am gifted with the ammunition to shoot down my feelings, and desires. Love? Pow! Hate…How? Safety, NOW! Serenity..ha…I’m too late…I might as well frown…I don’t get an eternity without burning you see, because I lost a part to be in THEM hurting me. I am loss of words…I am doomed to burn. I smile. Well, thank you for creating me, I hope you find my life entertaining…because I do…We do…Holding on to his mind, heart, and soul…so easy when you have just one fragile desire to destroy completely..does he know? Does he know that this may not be how he goes? No, he doesn’t, and may never know, because he will go in a way we want him…you no longer have control… When I close my eyes and I sigh, I realize why I shouldn’t die. I don’t deserve to cry, or even question why…I deserve this torture…no content, and struggle. I deserve hate, pity, wrath, and treachery. I need it…I NEED IT! I am a spawn of sin created within a hell that blends in with men. I am a spawn of lust, brittle like the crust of rust sprinkled in the combusted dust upon his broken eyes. This is enough…it’s enough…I enjoy my new slave..I will harm him…I will harm you…and yes…it will be rough too….hahhahhhhahahahahhahahahhahahahahahhahaahahahhahahahahahahahahahahahahahhahahahahahahahaahhahahahahahahahahahhahahaahahhahahahahahahahahahahahahhahahahhahahahahhaghahahahhahazhahhahahahahhsahshahsahhhasiuashcjlcjosbcewnshewlshlkesdnljkvsdkjvbdfzkjxbvkjdfzxbgjksdb.kjgdsbz.jkhbodubourebg;jvdh’ovjlkrhdjlgoherbdfojvhdfjlkvndfk.jxbvkjdfzx;bvoudfbvi’nlnK?.......................................................................---------------------------------------------------------------_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________   

This poem is about: 
Me
My family
My community
My country
Our world

Comments

Enigmatic Pariah

This poem was quite astounding, touched me in the recesses of my soul. 

It's been quite some time, since you wrote this, but I can only hope that time

healed some of these wounds of yours. It seems like that saying is true,

that some of the best art is created from the brush of a tortured soul. This poem

certainly speaks to that aphorism. God bless. 

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