It’s the same
A rehearsal of pain,
A misinterpretation leads to a projection of shame.
It’s like you weave in and out of feelings,
Not sure whether God or the Devil is the most appealing.
As if everything you love turns into a weakness,
And your eyes cast across a battlefield thinking ‘I can beat this’.
What you’re seeing however is a reflection,
Based upon a headspace that breeds the negative like an infection.
And once it grips you reality becomes an affliction;
Something which carries its own personal fiction.
Hurt is the new addiction, the personal crucifixion, all created by your convictions.
From here no one can reach you,
From here all we have to do is remain silent until the light breaks through.
That repetitive cycle others misconstrue, as something more than a phase,
As something that should make us afraid;
Well we’re here again, and I tell myself it’s okay.
That today is just a replay of the same problems we all face.
That this time is just part of a long line of issues which teach us to climb.
And that strength comes from overcoming these moments.
Yet part of me still feels like I don’t seem to grow much.
Sometimes it feels like I’m shrinking from you to protect myself,
As if all of this has been placed on my mental shelf,
And has now become part of my psychological health.
However this self doubt finds a way of seeping out,
Causing these emotions to rise to the surface on occasions when I feel down.
Then I sit here thinking are you the God or the Devil?!
Who are you in moments of good or evil?
What drives these words which pierce like a needle,
Do you understand how this pain could be lethal?
Or is it you’re inner fragility which causes these outbursts of instability,
One thing that I know is apparent to me:
Is that I will never hear you pleading ‘forgive me’,
But I’ve accepted that, it’s okay, you don’t need to because you’re family.