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the person within

nothing or everything?

By angela hepworthPublished 2 years ago • 2 min read
By Dave Dick

to reach within the self

will always lead to ruin

I know not why my heart pounds

the way it does, why the sickly

sensation of submission sinks into

my skin so easily, as if it was

meant to be that way

I am weak and only growing weaker

under judgmental eyes, I fold so easy

and I bend like a straw to the whims

of the people I love and resent

I feel my sins clawing at my mind, never

letting go; I feel my womanhood on my back,

a heavy burden, a beautiful tragedy

carried with me day in and day out

the eyes on me never seem to stray away

I perform like a monkey; I work like a dog

and still, I feel I am nothing

but an object, a warm body in a chair, bending

to their will; I am smiling, I am behind

a counter, looking decent, and I could look better

I could wear makeup; I could powder my cheeks

and color my eyelids, darken my lips with

lipstick the color of blood and paint my nails

piss yellow, I could lose weight, I could pluck

my brows and stab my soul too

I could be who they want and I would

still feel empty, drained and used up

and never enough

the misery of life is chronic and unending,

and flitting realities within my mind come and

go until time passes, and childhood ends, and

I realize I am nothing without my innocence

I am rooted to the spot and stuck,

and stuck smiling

heeding to the whims of others

seems to be my calling, for my passions dull

under the sheen of the nothingness I am

I want to break free; I feel repulsed by myself

by the weakness of my nature

in my humanness, I won’t believe it is

inherent; I will claw up mountains with split open

hands and arms aching with the burdens

of a thousands worlds before I look in

a mirror and tell myself, this is it

this is you—accept it

and my eyes will fill with tears

that feel like fire falling down my face,

and my hands will be burnt from reaching

to that place within, where I expected to feel

nothing, only to pull them out and see

them scorched by my own resentment

-

I’m having a bad day, in case you guys couldn’t tell. This kind of spilled out of me.

Love and appreciate you all ♥️

Mental HealthFree Versesad poetrysocial commentary

About the Creator

angela hepworth

I want to erase the tears of all those who trusted in hope; I want them to be left with a smile on their faces.

-Madoka

I’m Angela! I enjoy writing fiction, poetry, reviews, dumb self-indulgent stuff, and much more. Come check me out! :p

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    Written by angela hepworth