Weblogic

 

Inside my mind there is a room,
No doors or windows I can see.
Only screens showing my life,
Repetition of my lasting misery.

I try to escape every chance I get,
To leave the degradation behind.
Running can kill me, if done wrong,
My release must be the right kind.

As for substances that make me forget,
There is only a temporary effect.
Then back to reality and pain,
And again my thoughts start to collect.

Like piles of debris cluttering my mind,
They pollute my self worth and value.
I look to others to verify me,
When of themselves they don’t have a clue.

So in this spiral of a questionable state,
I live with the past here and now.
A colloquia of thoughts decorate my room,

Preventing total surrender some how.
I know that someday I’ll understand,
And attain a true and complete release.
Until then I’ll remain overly aware,
And keep focused on complete peace.

Heidi P.