The Hard Stuff
Bringing past friends into the present.
A separation in the place and time.
A collage so scattered, I really need to bring them back together.
Pieces of me are getting tinier.
It's as if they never existed.
All in my head,
In crazy town unknown and unheard of.
It never really happen.
Tricks of the mind.
An illusion built to justify.
A raising of skies as if they weren't high enough.
A pillow with not enough fluff.
Not either soft or gentle, but instead quite rough.
A kind of firmness.
A solidness that can hurt if fallen down onto to hard.
And I hit it exponentially.
As if I was traveling at the speed of light.
It brought pain upon every inch of my body.
As if I was falling into a pit with trillion of spikes.
All because of event surrounding all this hate.
A faulty fault.
And every time I think about it I want to both cry and laugh.
It's not true, It's joke without any farther a do.
If I can believe that than maybe I can mend a broken trend.
We were thick thieves back then.
A now we barely talk.
A silence has torn us apart.
But I still hear the whispers of you defending me from the taunts.
Yes they do still haunt.
Even after so long.
Even with you being gone.
I remember it all as if it was yesterday.
A play being acted out over and over again.
And as hard as I try to be at peace.
I know I never will.
I can't even separate what is fantasy from what is real.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
