This right here, these are chains
These are veins
This is a sense of purpose
This is all that remains
This is all that’s reached the surface
And I see you
When I peer right through
So worthless
When you see me for what I am
All cut and scarred and bruised
Do you shelter the stars just to covet the moon?
I’m sick of poems that go on too long
I’m tired of being someone else’s muse
Used and abused is all we ever are
Until we’re good enough for someone new
Doesn’t it ever get old?
Being told the same things until its all gone
So bitter, so dark and so cold
How can I change the view?
Alter this worship
Of altars and pews
These stained glass windows have mildew
And kept promises are few
Do we stay open and hopeless?
I can shove my fingers in the wound
I can feel it festering
And in these dying moments
When I’m entering
A new life to be exhumed
It’s the fact that you can freely do what you want, don’t have to please everyone around you, and no one can ever judge you for who you are because they don’t know you in the first place and your presence don’t really matter to them.
And do you know what sucks about it?
It’s when you’re in need and no one will be there for you. If you’re in pain, no one will be there to comfort you. If you’re sad, no one will cheer you up. Because you’re invisible and your existence don’t matter at all.
