14/05/2024
YOUR IMAGE AND MY RAGE
Within me resides an overpowering muscle,
A force that wrestles against my enforced heart,
His image flashes like bolts of lightning,
Crashing on the top my thought's hill.
I did not choose to possess this heart,
To love and be left drained and weary,
It was thrust upon me, an unwelcome burden,
Not an opportunity or a gift I deserved.
This enforced heart now stands vulnerable,
Pressuring my mind, entangled in his image,
A treacherous place to linger, lost in the shadows,
Immersed in the illusions of an elusive presence.
His gaze remains unflinching,
His lips devoid of a smile meant for me,
Yet his fingers wield a powerful spell,
Plucking consciousness from the depths of my mind.
Uncertain of how to respond,
Should I unleash violence, maintain calmness, or succumb to anger?
I yearn for empathy, for this enforced heart's desires
To reap the consequences of its deeds.
Behold,
The muscle has amassed a fortune from my torment,
Masking its intentions, avoiding guilt with deceptive guise,
Unaware of the shadow it casts,
Unconsciously draining the strength of my heart,
Leaving my lips bewildered, robbed of words,
Perhaps deceived by the defeat of explored emotions.
How do I convey that I have never truly experienced
The fullness of this enforced heart,
Denied even a chance, only glimpses through others,
Distorted by obstacles and uncertainties,
Haunted by the horrors of hearts bestowed upon them,
My own emptiness magnified.
I have portrayed these fears,
Unable to shield my enforced heart,
Consistently denying myself the opportunity to learn,
To repent, to avoid shattering it, despite its forced presence.
Frustration simmers towards this enforced heart,
Yet the words fail to find their expression,
Your desire to explore me is a manifestation of your privilege,
A privilege held over my coerced heart.
This enforced heart,
A shackle that drags me towards your image,
Can I ever find liberation,
Or are you content in my helplessness?
Allow me to describe the sensations of this enforced heart,
Not from your perspective,
Nor from those who begged for hearts and love.
For I have witnessed the distinction,
Between my morally pure enforced heart,
And the morally fallen begged hearts of others,
It is clear that I am led to servitude.
How can I endure such a cramped existence,
Amidst squalid conditions my enforced heart offers,
Lowered in the absence of his images,
Driven to madness in his very presence.
In the absence of his images, darkness engulfs me,
At times, fierce anger surges forth,
Yet it is often overshadowed by powerful fear,
Fear of an opportunity to give love and be left empty.
These frightful conditions teach patience,
To be shattered in silence,
To accept a silent demise or a raging outcry,
Must this be the attitude embedded within my being,
I refuse to accommodate this heart any longer,
Please, take it away.