Accepted Truths

It contorts and constricts,
Tracing the lines of veins
Up and in,
Then strangling them.
I am being asphyxiated,
Ravaged by myself.
This is not meant to be.
This is not why I am me.
Or is it?
Is this state of perpetual displeasure,
This dissatisfaction of self,
How it will always be?
The curse of creativity, says one.
The workings of a fractured mind, reads a second.
I do not wish to read the third.
I ponder and muse,
Mired in a melancholy that tastes of bitter earth.
The world stirs.
It hears me.
And, as I gaze out of the window
To a darkening sky and building cloud,
I wonder,
Am I looking at the same view as everyone else,
Or my own?
And does it even matter
If the mind won’t accept the truth?
I don’t care,
I wouldn’t believe the answer, anyway.

6 thoughts on “Accepted Truths

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