Rusting Self-Image

I had a belief in myself,

I thought I knew where I stood

But spend enough time talking to one who believes otherwise…

The words twist and drive into my heart until doubt creeps,

And the snakes who slept awaken and open lidless eyes

“Who am I?” I must scream into the darkness

The silence answers back with a laugh.

“You are the sum of your failures, dear child.  Own up to it.”

But that is not me, I shout into the light.

The day replies, “But what about your actions?”

I cling to the image I have created of the person I want to be

She stands, unmoved in armor and an assured smile

But words are rusting the metal, and your belief corrodes the image

Silver flim and silver mirrors and both betray 

“I know what you want” you say “I know who you are”

And I start to cave and believe you know me best

Is my heart so confused that it lies to my mind?

We do our values, this I know, so maybe the lies are truth

It was not so very long ago I could look in the mirror with pride

I was a good person with flaws.  But now I’m a hellish form.

A demon in melted armor

Give me a reason to hope again and prove my worth

For I can no longer look myself in the eye for there is no recognition.

But I cannot put blame on you if this indeed is simply making me see…

What is really there….

◄ Urban Fairy

Comments

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Jon Stainsby

Sat 10th Nov 2018 08:09

Feelings I have shared, share, and will share.

Thanks,

Jon

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Big Sal

Fri 9th Nov 2018 12:11

Even gray images look colored through rose-tinted glasses. Nostalgia can be a great motivator, but is often relegated to a role of a memory instead.

Very good piece. Excellent word choice.👍

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