Maybe I'm Becoming Insane?

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Maybe I'm Becoming Insane?

Problems. I have them. They are everywhere, sketching themselves out in my life and digging deep crevices to show that they are truly infinite. I used to think that I was alone with my problems, have no one there to assist me in my time of need. Maybe I'm becoming insane?

But now that I have people to hold close and dear, those crevices are slowly filling in with a different color. A that represents a friend or family member. Red, blue, green, purple, pink, maroon. So many colors in this crevice filled, crystal clear pavement of my problematic mind. Maybe I'm becoming insane?

How do you see a heart? I see it as the hearts that are traditionally drawn, but it's three dimensional and thick glass. In it, there are your passions, your dearest friends, your best and worst memories. You know what my heart looks like? It's cracked, some cracks bigger than others. Maybe I'm becoming insane?

My four closest friends are in my heart. My best memories with them, as well as my worst. My artistic passions are visible as well. There is one crack that will never be fully filled. Damnit, Josh! I miss you... Why did you open that wretched crevice in my heart? Maybe I'm becoming insane?

Now, when I dream, I always dream that my friends beside me throughout my problems, helping me come to my solutions. Most of these dreams are fictional, a work of art that my brain has devised to help tear me from limb to limb. Maybe I'm becoming insane?

There is no longer a maybe. There is an honest. I'm becoming insane. I'm tearing myself up limb by limb to find out why exactly I was born to begin with, why the fate of my wretched soul has been covered with a thick black, overbearing overtone of what could have resembled my life. There is no longer a maybe to the fact that I'm becoming insane.

I'm slowly driving myself into a pit that I can't get out of, a world that I can't see. A wasted wretch of time and space. Fuck it all! But as they say, shit happens for a reason. Carpe Diem, Seize The Day. Carpe Noctem, Seize The Night. Damnit all!

I'm becoming insane.

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Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words.

Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

xTwitchySceneX’s Poems (7)

Title Comments
Title Comments
Deadly Gaze 1
Cut My Strings 1
Fears 0
Wishful Thinking 0
When I'm With You 0
Things You See 0
Maybe I'm Becoming Insane? 0

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