In the Dark

In the Dark

 

Time slipped through my hands and

now was the moment that I had

been dreading.

Then, with a hushed tone,

I whisper the five worded sentence.

“Bloody Mary In the Dark.”

My chest heaves up and down.

On cue, the drum in my body begins to pound.

Followed by my uncontrollable breathing.  

Instantly, I press my hands against my mouth,

knowing I must not create a sound.

The Gutting feel. I open my eyes for the reveal.

What I see is so unreal.

 

In the beginning, God made man. 

Man was simple, became complex 

Overthinking, wondering, wandering

Mind wanders and it questions

Listening but not learning lessons

Mind wandering with doubt

Then man forced to live and wander through life without

Leading to choices

Choices to be made alone

Overthinking, wondering, wandering

Life is creation and this creation that this life made was Fear.

 

Conforming into what society tells you to become

and destroying who you are for something worse

In the end, it will kill and devour the real you leaving a fake entity.

 

Fear itself has crept upon the human race.

Slow, steady, unnoticeable

At its own pace.

My lungs are squeezed by the hands of society.

I scream for air, but not even my own family can hear me.

Honestly, I didn’t even realize when death was creeping.

My Mindless motions

quick to watch the life of another being

Pressurized to live differently

Oh, I feel the clams at my throat.

Either conform or be choked

These insecurities are not a joke.

I said, “THESE INSECURITIES ARE NOT A JOKE!”

Ha! Who am I kidding? Nobody knows. That’s why they’re called insecurities

because they only pose

as a threat to me.

That awful appearance because I’m too fat or too skinny.

Or that I have no butt, it’s too flat.

That background… too religious.

They think I see myself as “better” because I have virtues.

And the standards of society today are for-

are here to… “Gosh, for what reason?” I ask.

But I rather not commit treason, for there’s too much at stake.

The blackness of this skin

already gives me a disadvantage 

and gosh, I hardly say I manage.

Personal issues do the right amount of damage

When daddy gets a little too friendly

Or that handsome boyfriend gets a little too angry

The cuts on my wrist hide underneath that fresh bandage...

Growing pains underneath

That scab picked off and it's just a repeat of the same pain, but a different 

Scenario

 

It’s just too chaotic and what’s so ironic is that fear

was actually created by the human mind.

Fear is a trait that the brain will adapt to

in the storm’s eye.

If uncontrolled, will spread like a disease.

It can be used to motivate or it can cause a cease in 

Positive Progression.

Out of fear I move.

Afraid of what’s next and

not living up to that Amercan standard.

So yes, I put on that bandaid

leaving hidden questions unanswered. 

And to fit in, I try not to use my manners.

Okay hey, maybe I do plant on that fake smile when I leave the house.

But compared to this giant world, I just feel like a tiny mouse. 

Despite that, I pretend to be a cat.

 

Sometimes this crazy thought forms into my mind.

Shaking my head, I always quickly dismiss the thought.

Fear: I am afraid to be me.

Weird thought.

I feel a tear run down my cheek.

 

Cat and mouse cat and mouse

That’s the life I live.

I play their dumb game.

That’s all I have left to give.

 

Time slipped through my hands and

Now was the moment that I had

been dreading.

Then, with a hushed tone,

I whisper the five worded sentence.

“Bloody Mary In the Dark.”

My chest heaves up and down.

On cue, the drum in my body begins to pound.

Followed by my uncontrollable breathing.  

Instantly, I press my hands against my mouth,

knowing I must not create a sound.

The Gutting feel. I open my eyes for the reveal.

What I see is so unreal.

 

I tilt my head and squint my eyes.

I don’t understand what I see.

It’s worse than I imagined.

Bloody Mary is… me

 

This poem is about: 
Me
My family
My community
My country
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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