“1 King, Thus far…”
I am dead while alive.
I said, I am dead while alive because I feel as if my head is disconnected from my mind.
My brain feels pressure constantly and uncontrollably.
I seek forgiveness, acceptance, love, and come up empty handed.
I always go back within, to find sins, worth expelling and accepting.
I always and continuously find myself alone.
I find that being alone, on this planet of darkness is my sacred and only home.
I feel stones, thrown, at my face.
Demons, demons, I play and wrestle with them.
I sit with them, and I talk to them.
I draw chalk with them — thinking of ways to heal them or slay them.
I pray for them.
I am meant to love my enemies, yet, I want to rip them and watch them to fade.
I am in a daze, this poem, is only a vent…
I am enduring rain, humanly feeling my pain, and although I feel drained, I am only growing tamed, as the demon and angel that, I proudly am.