Wednesday 27 July 2016

The Cost of Admission

I'm about to tell you a story. A story all about how, my life got flipped, turned upside down.
No.

In all seriousness, this will be one of my more lengthier posts. I started this blog to showcase my poetry, nothing more, and although my poetry had a certain depiction of my feelings at the time, it wasn't necessarily an open heart process. However, recently I feel I have put more effort into an explanation of why I write the post as a whole rather than the lyrical content. Similarly, I have begun to wonder what kind of direction that step is in. On analysis of the situation, it's more an admission than an escape, My state of mind in a particular moment, held forever in a few words of rage or fear, and  hung out to dry for the whole world to see.

But for the whole case of admission, it is still my escape. There will always be those who sun the concept of "airing dirty laundry" (if that applies here) or laying myself bare, however that is merely an opinion. I won't let a narrow mind stop me from expanding my own, as selfish as that may sound. There always comes a point where a person is close to breaking. No matter what emotion caused such a situation, for it will always be reaction not action that is the cause, there will be a way for that individual to cope. 

I write, some fight, some forget, or at least try. Everybody has their own antidote, to their own poison. However the time taken to find either is more or less equal.
To admit a fault is the first step to finding both. And so full circle.
I've admitted a lot here over the past 2 years, and only recently have I discovered writing is my one true escape.

With that, I intend to expand, an escape should have many routes. A single winding road tends to require more care and attention, such as it is, to upkeep.
So I am open to suggestion, this began with poetry, and will probably end with poetry, but wherever we stop on our journey, and what we accomplish on the way is unknown.
However I am excited to find out.

So you say you've seen it all before,
You know the score,
A negative is counted as a loss,
A line you thought you'd never cross,
Anticipation, trepidation,
No consideration, consolation,
And you still hold that expectation,
That time will pass without degradation,
Rust eats away at even petals,
And the strongest of all metals,
For all that is cosmetic,
Is enough to make me mentally sick,
I try to lay back and see,
The reasons behind my beliefs,
Is illness only selfishness?
Cries of pain for attention, no less?
Chastisement of my own being,
Is this the blind finally seeing?
Or another needless relegation,
To my feeble, crumbling self frustration,
I crave that finally realization, 
A world without this wild constriction.



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