APROXM: POETRY

BURDEN

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PREFACE: Old creative writing assignment. Can you tell what album I was addicted to at the time?



In a nightmare, you, unfortunately, paid a visit once again. I don't know how you got past the guards, they shouldn't've let you in, but you stand before me, I'm petrified, words cannot escape (though my thoughts are racing, scattered, my mouth is agape), and I see you've brought company, come to see the starting show. But I look closer and start to recognize their faces, oh, it's you, and you, and you, and you, your faces tell the world. You've come to haunt me once again, a revenge plot unfurled.


"What do you want from me," I ask. "Is my self hatred not enough? Is the toil of my mind well worth to not pass this up?" But it's not enough, because they're smiling, they're here to stay, and all the while I know they hate, tonight I'm the entree. But it's a meal they order quite often, a meal they surely love--a love to inflame my heart and damage the rest, am deserving of. "I'm sorry for my actions," I start, "I'm sorry for who I was," And all at once, the crowd began to break into applause. "But I can't spend my dreams worrying about you, not anymore--or you, or you, or you, or you. I relinquish this great war."


But she turned to me, the world started spinning, she looked me in the face. "You can't blame us for how you are now. With two hands, you built this place. There's no inception for your state, you can't bear that feeling on us. You have to accept your mind stems from your own thoughts, thus, you can't wait on forgiveness, because, really, it's never gonna come, but you can bear your regret and keep pushing, know that you just aren't scum. Just remember that it's you who builds you, we take no participation. A soul that hates himself and everything he does--that's solely your creation."


I couldn't bear a word, nothing tangible from my mouth, but as the expanse turned to room, my thoughts drifted south, and I screamed and yelled and smashed my fists fiercely on the wall. I burst through the cage, crying, my strength gave it my all. I didn't want to believe it, I refused to let it in--My reality is a burden to bear, I can't just let it end. Without my past, who am I? Without my regrets, where? Am I just a man who's doomed to this never-ending affair? I'm supposed to move on but it's so easy to find a reason--a reason to despise the life and desire to commit treason.


In a nightmare, you, unfortunately, turned right around again. You walked right out, you left my cage, in tow with foe and friend, and I collapsed to my knees, shaking from the awful scene--drowning in a pool of blue, a heart forever aching. My eyes shot open, and I felt anger, for I awoke once more. I grabbed those thoughts and shoved them away, fiercely slamming the door, and I hated what was true, I hated what I believed, and I laid there, thoughtful and thoughtless of the bereaved. I knew that I'd forget about all of this tomorrow and return to my pitiful ways, head chock full of sorrow. No help, no confessions, no one ever has to know. This is my burden to bear, mine to bear alone.