INSIDE WHERE I HIDE - Shakespeare's Monkeys

INSIDE WHERE I HIDE

INSIDE WHERE I HIDE

((( Find the rhythm; this makes for a much easier read.
Failing that, read it out loud so the rhythm can reveal itself to you )))

There is a private special place, all the way down inside; where heartache and sorrow and sadness reside. In darkness and shadows are both pain and remorse. Some misery and torment are there to be found; uncovered, exposed, so naked and laid bare. Where fear of depression, dejection, despair are there all around and just hang in the air. Taunting, insulting, annoying me so. Sneering, perturbing, and irking me on. To keep me disheartened, so mournful and moody. Where my feelings come quickly, like the wind when it's cold. Yet so intimate and personal and calling my name. To hurt me or haunt me, disturb me, upset me, I just see no end. They are grim and deplorable; their touch is like ice. I hate them, despise them, but know them so well. They portend as old friends and are familiar with me. Yet they are private and solitary and share my regrets. They know all my secrets, my failings, frustrations and oh so much more. But I can't manage indifference that surely could win. Life is empty. There is no courage, no strength. Where does my spirit hide? I'm alone. I'm awake. It is nighttime. And no ship in sight. Afraid in the darkness. All swelled up inside. Over and over, again and again. Uncaring, un-giving, each night like the tide. These feelings, they find me when my friendships aren't there. There is simply no brightness. No hope. No ambition. My insides inverted. The world's upside down. The shadows grow larger. All meaning grows senseless. I don't want to manage. I don't even care. A virus, vindictive, and cruel and bold, so intense and relentless, so lifeless, cold-hearted and another days ended. I'm just growing old. I don't want to believe that I'll settle for less, but the struggle continues, testing all I presume to suspect. The darkness surrounds me. Can I never adjust? Around and around. It's the same every night. I don't want to, but I have to. I just must go on.

Inside I go.

Back to the shadows to feel the old hurt. To hunt for some remnants of hope that's not there. To that place I can't hide from, that calls me each night. My innocence has left me. Or was taken, I'm not sure. What happened? How could I? Why did you? I was foolish? What made me decide? How long until it's over? And which way is out? I'm trying to scream, but I can't hear the sound. I am sure that it's over. There is nothing left. It just couldn't happen, but I know that it did. I want to be angry, but I'm just marking time. Counting days into weeks and the months into years. I'm numb, that is certain. The minutes become hours. I will wait for conclusion, but it seems not to end. It might be forever or maybe it's just me. I am scared and I'm lonely and I'm vulnerable as hell. Insecure, and I'm nervous, uncertain and anxious; exposed, unprotected, and everything tiresome. So why even go on? Push out the walls and open the door. Let the nothingness take over, I can breath once again. Let the nothing control everything.

... Nervous
... or in death do we part?
... I'm alone
... No, I love you
...your not there

YOU did this
How could you?
Do you know how it hurts?
... I'm not hungry I am broken
... I'm not anything
... I am scattered
... I'm in fragments

But good God, it's the sunshine, the night has all gone. ... I could master my fate if I believed that I could.

Yes, I am stronger. It is morning. Oh thank you. Oh thank you. I might be O.K.

Is that the phone? or the doorbell?

... Jesus, I am hopeless.
Here I go again!
I will wait for the mail. Will it never end?

I turned to God.