Baseless sentiments

Baseless sentiments

I feel myself afloat an ocean of dark ink,

that depicts the words I never said.

Cut out from my wrists to trickle slowly down upon my weary bloody fists,

I know you know,

that I never said a single word through it all,

but thought only that I deserve this.

Like the suns loving warmth didn't make me feel like the ever glowing radiance I was told I'd become.

Like I was made of clay,

to show the world that it could be done.

And it was,

and I am...me.

I stay afloat,

these dreams that I made up.

To show the world that I didn't drown in the words I never spoke.

Be more than just a disappearing ghost that mapped his existence in the words he wrote.

The ink a disguise.

I meant stay woke,

see the fading yellow that I painted on my black,

to hide the scars from the past lives that I had.

I call them lives because each time you'd hurt me I'd lose a bit more of myself.

And I'd grip on tightly to my lifeless pen to write nothing to no one cares but...me.

I see the shadows to the words I should have spoke,

and in my head the darkness grows.

I now taste the blood in my mouth,

feel the cuts within my veins,

from all the glass I'd taken in because you fed me ceramic lies,

I blame your world.

For not seeing the maps I'd given to mark the X on my pain,

the connect the dots lines I left in the letters I wrote,

and the salt at the corners of my loving eyes,

I expected you to know.

And not look at me like I was just being me,

I didn't cut myself to prove a point,

but to show you that I bleed in red.

I'm not the marble sculpture you thought you'd carved.

I'm starting to sink,

holding out my hand to the voices that said I mattered,

and really meant every word of it.

Those that held up knives,

carved their hopes with malice upon this layer of regret... misheard...not me-side you thought you knew.

I'm starting to drown.

I feel the ink filter through the cracks of my mistakes,

I blame your world.

I blame this ocean of regret that I found myself a meal to be swallowed,

to the ends of it's depths,

I feel less of me now.

And now I stand here,

upon the shore heavy,

with an anchor on my back.

The reflection in the water I see is of my enemies.

The image in the waters I see,

is me.

29/11/18✅