Just let it lie;
is it dead?
That is for me to know,
and you not to care about,
because that comes easily for you.
Drowning in a sea of doubt,
wallowing in whatever I can find,
to bring me down.
Bereft of solace because
I have slain my own serenity.
I allow my own sentiments,
to impale me.
Ignorance of madness
leaves me addicted to my sorrow.
Craving the burn,
seeking oblivion,
desiring to turn my back
on the only ones who care.
To sever contact,
despite the familiar pain of loss.
Multitudes of questions,
are answered with awestruck shyness.
If I could only have this,
this one desire,
would peace of mind be mine?
Have I been blind yet again,
of what to persue?
The persuit of happiness,
seeing the similarities of
yet another bleeding soul.
Reaching to wipe away the tears
of another,
when my own create a deluge.
Reaching
to encounter a barrier,
THE barrier,
indestructable,
now destroyed by decisions of doubt.
My hand is turned away
by indifference.
A new barrier;
one that does not preserve love,
rather, it strangles it.
Asphyxiated,
it twitches in the throes of untimely death.
Is it dead?