I don't know what I'm doing. Do I care too much or not enough ? I don't understand anything, Everything's in one ear and out the other. Whats happening?
In this room, I sit here.
Just waiting, for nothing in particular.
Maybe its you, or am I hiding?
Will you find me? In this room,
I hope not here not like this.
Chills spill down my spine, I remember this
It's like a summer half forgotten.
A demon lurking in the shadows, always on my back.
Ready to pounce and shoot me down.
In this room, I pray you don't find me.
For you would hate to see me like this,
I'll drop it now, I'll leave it.
You don't care anyway.
The door creeks open, i can see you in the shadows.
I try to scream but there's no sound.
I reach for the door, but you've got hold of me now.
I turn and look at you but all I see,
is my reflection staring back at me.
In truth, you like the pain. You like it because you believe you deserve it, and the fact that you’re putting yourself through pain means you are doing what you, by all rights, ought to do. You’re doing something right. Your ability to withstand pain is your claim to fame. It is ascetic, holy. It is self-control.
No comments:
Post a Comment