10/06/2013

I AM WHO I AM NOT

I have fallen.
I am broken.
My mouth is shut and sealed.
I have Xs for eyes.
My heart and soul, blackened.
The fire within me has grown cold.
I am but ashes on the wind.
I am a failure.
Forgotten and forsaken.
I live a life dead.
Darkness smothers me.
I am overwhelmed.
Angry and enraged.
I have grown to hate.
I blame myself for everything.
I am undone.
I am but broken shards of glass.
Crushed am I.
Alone and on my own.
Worn, weathered, and calloused.
I am wrapped in scar tissue.
I cannot move.
I cannot breathe.
I cannot speak or even cry out.
My tears have dried up.
They are dust.
Wretched am I.
Hideous.
I hide.
I segregate.
I seclude.
I separate.
I remain illusive.
Exclusive.
I am weary.
I want to rest.
But there is no rest for the wicked.
I have no will to speak of.
I am weak and waning.
I am slowly killing myself.
Comatose.
But aware of the haunting pain.
Excruciating.
I am what I am not.
I am who I am not.
Bleak existence.
Non-existence.

SCOTT DAVID BUCKLEY

2 comments:

I'd love to know what you think of this poem.