Surrounded but alone;
Never quite fine on my own;
Winning yet losing;
Seen yet unseen;
Owning everything yet having nothing;
Of things that matter and things that don’t
I always pick the ones that don’t.
“You’re perfect!” they say to me.
Behind my back, “He’s got it easy!”
Oh my! Lucky me!
That’s why they can’t see me.
No, they refuse to see me
for my imperfections
and my contradictions.
If they only knew
of those things with sinew;
When they surface
these perfections begin to efface;
And I face
these monsters’ embrace.
These (k)nightly battles?
Nothing new but I always knew
I was just one cut away.
I was always just one cut away.
***
You asked me in my car,
“Why don’t we go someplace far?”
But how far is too far
before you leave me with a scar?
You would surely leave I assumed
so I left first and bore this last wound.
***
Damn! This hurts so much...
Why does it hurt so much?
Did I act in haste?
Is this pain all a waste?