“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.

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