I tried showing you, but my actions were overtaken by false hallucinations.
I tried telling you, but my words were claimed as lies.
If only I could haunt your soul.
but you’d just perceive it as false hopes and dreams.
In humiliation…
I express self-pity or doubt,
It’s as though you loathe me.
If I express hate and anger, then suddenly you’re compelled to me.
As though my love is so hard to comprehend.
A freely given Love, taken for granted.
Confused and dismayed.
Lost in translation for what is truth.
Lost in an abyss for what is unknown.
Predisposed my heart and soul.
With declined investments of only heartache and misery.
Heartache and misery, for that’s all I ever know.
About the Creator
Deborah Portillo
I’m just an amateur writer, expressing my hopes, dreams, and nightmares for all to read. A lot of my short stories come from nightmares, while my poems are expressed from hopes, dreams, and feelings.
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Disarmament
They say there's no atheism in the foxhole. While I wasn't currently neck-deep in a river of soft sediment, I was still praying to whoever would listen. Why am I doing this again? I would ponder while staring at the device that in no less than a minute could be my undoing. I scanned each and every variable panel and commonplace button as I watched the bright red L.E.D ticker countdown. No wires to cut, no code to put in, there was only one way to stop this infernal machine, and that incurred perfect timing.
By James U. Rizzi3 days ago in Fiction
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