Category: Writers Block
I'll Share With Myself
If home is where the heart is
then I have no home.
With no family in this friendless world,
I am all alone.
If I'm to follow my heart and not my head,
I'm a vagrant soul.
I wander 'round places I've never been
and will never know.
If the head leads to temptation,
nirvana is my state.
If love blinds in spite of eyes,
I am full of hate.
Desire and love are tricks and games
to surrender yourself--
to make you a doll and give
control to everyone else.
If I am to flex beneath others stress,
I am a snapped log.
I've decided not to travel with the rest of the crowd
and make my way through the fog.
Everyone will surround me, but
their voices won't reach my ears.
I'll block them out because they all sound the same,
not because I don't like what I hear.
You can have your pointless love and stupid heart
and give someone the chance to rip it out.
But I'll not be so foolish and let one control my emotions--
whether I smile or pout.
And you can have your home too, but I won't settle down
'cause where you stay is where people can find you.
If you remain in one place for a while,
when you move on they'll be right behind you.
If I can't hurt myself, then no one can;
I won't give them the opportunity.
I am a loner in this loosely-linked world
that believes so much in unity.
I can't stand their feeble-minded ways or their voices
so I've cut off my ears and carved out my heart.
Instead of giving others the option to mutilate me,
I'll tear myself apart.