Sat, 03/17/2018 - 00:27 -- CaecaeW

Mind By Caecae W.

I’m awake but I’m asleep, well and insane, alive but broken…

My sense of time is unreal…

What is this, but a state of confusion drowned in my previous adolescence.


I’d weep if my tears permitted me, but my eyes remain dry in the light of my illusions

I can’t give myself affection, so I receive none from my fellow man except of my kin

Mother’s love conditional and strange in my perception

I feel I don’t deserve it like a treat from a laughing God


Caffeine bubbling in my abdomen and insomnia fighting it each time

Finding pleasure in words of worlds fictional and imaginative

But my own remain naïve and brass


Fears grow as an ever trial of my failures and success

Mother speaks of the flow of life as an easy come up

I spoke of a hell on earth instead

What is this, but a time of worship


Level with me in my despair

As something tings to my side

The rain hits the roof as I describe my brain

This poem is about: 


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