Stripped
Sometimes I think I'm getting too personal here
is this mad poetry
or another diary entry?
I can't help myself
misery loves company
I'm stripping myself bare
and doing it with such flair
thoughtful enough to share
while I gaze into space and just stare
this anger is some byproduct
well past the expiration date
if left inside, it just festers
eating away, it pesters
at that point, it is too late
and time as I know it
comes crashing to an end
I've been called introverted
living a celibate life
a life quite diverted
and then the Church comes calling
quit your stalling,
is it time yet to convert?
and this broken heart
tattered and hurt
is taking years to heal
while I wallow away in the dirt
is that the only reason left to feel,
waiting for somebody True and Real?
He never arrives or even tries
once I was told
you have a face filled with longing
but an aura that screams f- off
this admittedly can be disarming
or is the correct word 'charming'?
finding this candidness rather alarming
struggling with this depression
angst and rage,
Bipolarism running hot and cold
still looking young
but truly feeling so old
so full of contradictions
and dire with predictions
maybe this chaotic flow
will just shrivel up and go,
or will it make more sense tomorrow?
mathiasthom
written 2/25/10
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