While you’re waking up I’ll be falling asleep for emotional relief
From the heart strings snapping like they’ve been over-tuned.
I’ve seen my reflection in the soulless eyes of a man framed for
Murder, when his only crime was caring too much for
The daughter he never had with the feelings of others too tightly wound
Inside his heart to distinguish them from his own.
I taste my words in the bitter regrets of unconventional friendship and
Unwelcome sacrifices that taint and drag down the curtains of my world
That hide the vision of how I see myself.
“When the lion is in the room, you will know.” The doctor said
Unconvincingly. What I didn’t know was that it was the lion who spoke.
But, can he understand the lengths I go to find tears for myself
While my pillow and shirt are drenched with the sorrows of others?
It seems so much easier to turn it off; I’ve done it before,
But who wants a high functioning sociopath for a friend?
Maybe a doctor, but certainly not this one. No,
He seems only interested in finding his next meal.
“Don’t solve the mystery. Save the person.” I told him,
And he does it so easily, emotionally driven and warm.
I hope one day to be half as human as he, but until then:
I’ll wait here with my pipe, heroine and forgotten patches;
My house full of dogs substituting the family I could never have
And my words that always seem to come at the right times
For everyone but myself.
Moonlit Poetry 