This is the World

I walk alone beneath the stars

Licking my wounds and hiding my scars

No one can know of my pain

That for eternity I must learn to be lonely.

But the words sit like ducks on the tip of my tongue

And they want to be breathed into

ideas and bitter blasphemies

Pinpoints of infinity dancing through my mind

Alone now and into eternity, I write

words of strife disguised as stories

My only friends are creatures brought to life

by my pen, heroes and monsters--

My heroes are monsters--

And to some degree, I am my monsters.

Reality always seems so shallow.

So the words sit like ducks on the tip of my tongue

And I choose not to be silent any longer.

I will scream those bitter blasphemies to life!--

And you will not see me coming.

There are pinpoints of infinity dancing through my mind

I am the goddess of solitude,

so being alone can't scare me, and besides,

life always seems like a masquerade

no one showing their real self,

but garish faces of glitter and gold.

And we've been trained to be silent--

a true face stands out among false ones--

So history will decide if I am good or evil, but

from a certain point of view, we are all monsters.

But can you feel those pinpoints of infinity 

The harbingers of destiny? Can you feel

the light of good shatter like broken glass?

There is no black and white. My monsters tell me

that the world is not told in gray, either--

This is a world of color.

And even in my solitude, I can see it.

This is the world. 

And though I am the goddess of solitude,

through my ink I have learned to be lonely.

Now I look upon the world as though 

I were not any part of it,

And I am grateful for my solitude.

This is a crazy world.

So I walk alone among the stars, 

smiling wrily at the ground.

"You cannot hurt me," I say. And I know

with a strange certainty that I am destiny.

I can see that they despise me

because I am different, and they

do not understand me, so they fear me.

Through writing I can see that those

pinpoints of infinity are stars within my mind, 

To keep me company as I tread alone upon this world of color.

Through writing I have seen that this

is not a cruel world, just a strange one.

So the ducks sit like words on the tip of my tongue,

desperately wanting to be breathed

into philosophies and bitter blasphemies--

Would you have me silence them?

I am the goddess of solitude, 

the harbinger of destiny,

I will show the world its reflection

its image from the eyes of an outsider.

A world of color surrounded by pinpoints of infinity?--

Yes, this is the world.

 

This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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