Trapped...
When you make a kill,
The wound will never fully heals,
And sting of it never goes away.
You are trapped in a cage made steel.
The dead never comes back,
The death is always in your heart,
The violence never goes away,
And the past does not depart.
There are times where I feel like I am more than one thing,
Sometimes part sufferer and part comforter,
Other times, part victim and part killer,
And even part prey and part predator.
I never fully understand who or what I am.
Am I an energetic youngster,
With a very powerful imagination?
Or am just I a cold blooded murderer?
I don't know,
And I wonder if I stopped guessing ages ago.
Please Review! Helpful reviews really, really really appreciated! Thank-you for reading! P.S. I wrote another poem (There Was a Time...) to treat you guys cause I'm going to be leaving for the month of February.