Pilgrimage For My Self

Eyes wide open but I think I’m still dreaming,
conciously aware of the illusory fantasy surrounding me.
Entrapped within a solid wall of bone,
projecting images that I imagine to be home.
Pinching flesh to assure myself it’s real,
what I see might be,
but I dont know about how I feel.
Walking through fog amidst a forest of frozen giants,
I hear them whispering commands as I nod my head with compliance.
Don’t stop treading the terrain,
when your feet are bloody and raw then you’ll know their pain.
The hurt of tripping over what you couldn’t see,
being pushed to the ground by what feels like a ghost,
they didn’t know that part of you existed,
like a parasite attached to its host,
you’ll be drained of the will to fight.
But if you desire to see it through,
you won’t run away you’ll walk until the blackened bitter night.
Blinded by the promises, blinded by the lies,
blinded by everything you said, even the false compromise.
The fog won’t be so thick
once the fact is accepted that you were a royal prick.
So I stumble and fall,
no strength left in my lacerated feet
so I’m on my knees starting to crawl.
I cant give up,
I can’t give in,
I will not remain in this place
I’ve created within!
Even if I have to go insane with madness,
even if I must go blind in blackness,
even if I must go deaf in silence,
even if my tongue falls out of my mouth,
I will accept nothing but success.
So many people I imagine going through something similar,
they need love,
not toxic words like vinegar on an open wound.
Not too soon because the negative slice of life is good for two things,
great poetry
and lessons ingrained in your heartstrings,
being plucked by harpes.
See how you’ve damaged others,
write it on your face with sharpie.
Own it for as long as it takes,
then let it go,
forgive yourself
for those mistakes.

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