If it wasn’t for writing
They’d think me insane
I speak all their truths
Without mentioning names
My pen is my dagger
The paper a tomb
My mind is a multitude
Of dark cavernous rooms.
Nobody travels
Or explores through the halls
Terrified of the images
cast on its walls.
Like mirrors they shine
And reflect back to
My brutal honesty
And truths of who
Ever left ghosts
Behind when they parted
I can pinpoint the moment
The madness all started.
That very second
That I recognized
Everyone wears
Some sort of disguise.
So I’ve adapted
And wear one too
Now the only difference is
I can still see you.
I’ve learned to shield
Myself from the whole
And I’ll always be someone
That nobody knows.
RaenellDawn
