Winter Is Coming
I know my soul is freezing.
Hell is colder this season.
My mind is chilling
but the voices scream in a fiery rage
as I beg for a mercy killing.
You're not Her. You're not Him.
Jealousy has no gender.
When is my self-loathing going to cease
to render the service of eternal pain?
Day after day, no matter the wisdom or praise I gain,
my soul grows colder, as I grow older.
My mind's eye is blind to light. My pupils can diminish
to a mite. And my mind is dark as a shadow in the night.
Enchanted by a world of euphoric sounds,
my mind at ease, I start to think it's not so bad after all.
But don't be a fool. If you think this way,
there's only further to fall.
Feeling pride in myself. Getting a taste of mental health.
But don't be a fool, pride only aids
the pain of inevitable shame.
Is it fair to know of things I'll never know,
just so I can hopelessly care?
The incessant clamor, the voices of internal warfare
Have deemed I'm just a pseudo-human machine
who came with faulty software.
Share This Poem