Bite Me

Anger, Despair, Rage

Just another stage

I go on saying nothing's wrong

When there's such a big thorn

Comfortable in my throat.

Irritatingly funny

I laugh at other's jokes

When I am overcome with pain

Inside.

You think I can write?

You think I am weird?

You think this is not a poem?

Burst aflame, Good night!

Why did I start writing?

Why oh why did I cry?

None of them will ever fill

The emptiness inside of me

Dark, hollow, lonely

I look at myself in the mirror

And all I see is a masked smiling intruder

Staring at me grinningly

I look at it surprised

What have I become?

I am not this; this is not me

Do I really pretend that much?

And it occurs to me

All those days

Those dark days

Those horror days

When the sun shone bright 

On my face.

And how I craved

The night.

The warm, comforting night

But it was not there.

And here I am now

In the grasp of daylight again

Amidst a sea of smiling faces

Pretending to care

Pretending to like

Pretending to be happy

When I am dying inside.

Protest against wrongs

Fight for your beliefs

They say.

I am but a coward

Looking at my smiling self.

Craving...

For what? They ask.

What do you need?

I try to speak.

But my words are lost

In space.

I search and search

For the lost words.

Trying to find something, anything

To say.

But the words are gone

And I stare in awe

In the oblivious nothingness.