Category: Poetry

Misunderstood on the outside
my own path I wander
at times - all alone - I ponder
stepping aside, avoiding the ride

to the safe haven of conformity.
It is my path, and I walk alone
though fear shakes the marrow bone
I know I'm free, so I flee

to a place within this world
where it costs nothing to think
and one is free to scuffle and slink,
curled in on oneself, waiting to be unfurled

in the whipping wind of white hot
confidence that comes from strength
and hope - a sliver at arm's length -
we have not left our dreams to rot

by wandering this path alone.

Your hunger, your need
leech life from those you love -
held up to your mirror
they shatter in trying
to achieve the perfect reflection
you have created
in your expressions of desire -
ever more complicated -
twisting and stretching back
to the needs of the child
most have outgrown,
but you cling to with weak
fingers, grown desperate
over the time
you have failed to grow;
now, no more than a husk, a shell -
though you are beautiful
it is the fuzzy beauty 
of the caterpillar,
not the elegant beauty 
of the butterfly.

Will you see the sacrifice
as it lays dying at your feet,
wound gaping - an open sore -
stabbed by love?
Will you recognize they died
of hunger - though they slaked
their thirst with love, you
provided no nutrition, no succor?
Will you see life left them
through a failure of the heart -
you kept wanting more; demanding
more, and returned hollow affection?
      They sacrificed themselves breaking their hearts,
      going hungry that you might feel loved. Did you?