Frozen In My Chest

Frozen In My Chest

A Poem by Demyra
"

Frozen In My Chest, it still tries to beat...

"

Ten thousand words and two lips stitched shut,

Too many regrets bursting from a single cut.

Seventeen years and ten thousand degrading truths,

A million self inflictions, for a few innocent youths.

 

I don’t know what this is inside me,

But I know I want to kill it.

I don’t know what was stupid enough to try me,

But I know I want to kill it.

 

 A million words of inspiration only one comes out so bleak,

Countless strengths and abilities, attributes for the weak.

I have ten thousand enemies, and I haven’t conquered one,

It’s like I have twelve thousand bullets, without one single gun.

 

I don’t know what this is inside me,

But I know I want to kill it.

I don’t know what was stupid enough to try me,

But I know I want to kill it.

 

I only want to save a life, but to do that, must I kill?

Life has fed me bitter sweet memories, with no hurt or thrill.

I walk a steady road, with no clue of where I’m going,

And just when my emotions cease to pour, I find my heart is snowing.

 

I live a shallow, simple life, too much for me to control,

I live a solemn, heartfelt life, no purpose, no dream, no goal.

I have an isolated heart, no love and no smile,

I have an integrated heart, saturated in a romantic denial.

 

No sense of self, no location, and an isolated aspiration,

Frozen in my chest, parts of me bleed through the ice,

Trickles into the abyss, leaving only a hollow deprivation,

A sacrifice of sentiments, only a loss for this hefty price.

I'm sick of trying,

sick of crying,

sick of yearning,

sick of burning,

Sick of walking down this road with no incentive, nor motivation,

Playing this dull game of life, with no playing piece and no dice.

Frozen in my chest, I've always been dominated by vanity devestation,

Sheltered in a shadow, I've lived my life like one of the millions of timid mice.

 

Something inside yearns for a change,

something pushing me to try, it feels so strange...

And even though my soul's been long frozen in my chest,

I'm bleeding through the ice, to find my own place of rest.

 

I don’t know what this is inside me,

But I know I want to kill it.

I don’t know what was stupid enough to try me,

But I know I want to kill it.

© 2008 Demyra


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Added on August 19, 2008

Author

Demyra
Demyra

Columbia, SC



Writing