26. Behind the Curtain

You know...

I’m somewhat... lost...
But I feel something... I think...
Or I’m just lying... to myself...

There’s this spot--it’s in a gap.
Covered by grievous thorns.
Thorns protecting its rose.

It feels painful,
I guess.

It feels nice,
I guess.

I feel...
I guess...

There’s a demon on the outside,
With a crying child deep inside.
It doesn’t feel much, anymore.

It reeks of poison.
It lays discontent.
It feels deprived.

Blinded by ignorance,
Anxious of every moment,
It lives in fear of inadequacy.

Veiled by loneliness,
By fear of worthlessness,
The soft spot is then guarded.

The heart becomes shielded,
Shielded by the darkness,
Hardened, if you will.
Or shrouded.
Numb.
</3
~
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