Have I waded in too far
Dug my own grave, ensnared myself
Tied the loose around my neck
And choked the life out of myself
I look in the mirror
And see a confused beast
Its emotions raging
Its character but many facets
On one, it's written 'humour'
On another, it's written 'perverse pleasure'.
Each phase of life
Each new environment
Each friend
has a preset of facets.
Oh, the storms that come
The howling wind
The thunder as the waves crash
Against each other
Onto each other
With each other
And with dry land.
The storms that arise
within man's heart
The fury within.
The complex confusion
The passions that cry out
In fear, in preservation
The tears that pour forth
As joy turns into grief.
Like a deer caught in a truck's headlights
Like the un-caged bird, confused by its freedom
The feelings when two friends of different settings
merge and become one.
The shells.
Hard. Cold. Thick.
They don't break but they fall off.
They don't cease to exist
They just remain stagnant
For a little while
Till they are worn again.
Till the heart is crushed.
Till the mind is gone.
Then the shells resurface.
Once more.
