Coming Home to Real Love

1st poems

I pull out the burnt spoon
Bring out the blade
I’m all alone and so soon
The agony will be washed away…
Call me foolish
Call me psycho
Call me whatever you want
But these are my only escape routes
When my world crumbles down
Falls on me
Crushes me with it’s weight
And when it does fall down
Nobody knows
It’s all inside where you can’t hear a sound.
People think you’ve got it made
That you have it all
But if they only knew, that masks and facades over up the truth
Hiding your real weakness, that with just a pebble you could fall.

People are so oblivious sometimes
They feel something is wrong
They do wonder why I always wear baggy clothes
But yet they can’t quite put their finger on it
Of what happens behind closed doors
Another day
Another dollar
Another bruise on my arms and a bigger one on my bone collar.
This is how I’m greeted home
By my truest love…

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