that moment
Saturday, December 9, 2017 , 6:27 AM
Internal Death

The forest is on fire.
Screams of panic,
and voices in pain,
I hear them all.
My attempts to help,
It is all vain.

I watch them burn,
Those fire spreads,
further, faster.
No way would it vanish,
as from afar they saw me.
Watching, waiting.
It is my turn,
to be burned from existence.

These voices,
Burying them under pots of gold and laughter,
Never would they silence themselves.
Forbidden did they,
to never allow such still days and night.

Ignorance is bliss, they say.
It really is, but am I?
Neither ignorance nor bliss am I feeling.
Should I feel this way?

Knowing myself, I shouldn't.
Here I am, feeling lost,
as if I fell into an abyss.
Again and again.

Agonizing pain it is,
As my days are looped.
I put on my mask,
and fake a smile,
Went on with my days,
laughing, giggling.
Though I suffer internally, 
I do my best to appear the best,
outside on my shell.

I felt every crack,
every shatter, 
those empty bullet holes I got, 
each time I allow myself to be shot.
My heart, 
full of wounds and stabs,
still bleeding,
still fresh.

Internal death,
seems to be nearer than I expected.