Deep in the element of me, coursing through my veins, permeating every part of my body is a deadly kind of vulnerability.
An old but alien thing that has drained me of all my spirituality,
While I am not empty, it tempts me to think so.
It forces me to act silly and impulsively when relating to people that I love, and who loves me.
Readily I alienate everybody with caustic words and malicious silence, convincing myself I could not care.
Rather I do not, but inexplicably and sneakily, it bothers me exponentially.
I walk around defensively, ready for that next perceived onslaught.
Foolishly anticipating a confrontation, and loving the victory over everyone, as they are all inferior to me;
Incapable of anything thoughtful, intelligent, or different—husks of a single entity.
They peeve the hell in me.
And Jesus…well he’s never here, and his absence immobilizes, yet empowers me to monumental depravity.
Are curses and blessings the things that determines destiny?
Am I to blame for the shackles that attempt to bury me?
Can I run to another world and be free of my spiritual deficiency?
What of this foreign body is there no inoculation that permanently rids me of this malady?
I feel dazed, and I am without knowledge.
Because, like an incorrigible child, I do the same thing over and repeatedly—hate, and offend; hate and offend; run away, and cry; run away and cry.
Then lie, lie, lie, and lie.
I am unspeakably tired.
Can somebody save me, or do I have to want to be saved, by somebody?
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Submitted on May 01, 2011

Modified on March 05, 2023

1:18 min read

Quick analysis:

Characters 1,487
Words 261
Stanzas 1
Stanza Lengths 20


I am a soloist. I am introverted. I am a sparkle. I am a contradictory. I am free not to be defined by anybody. more…

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