Saturday, January 29, 2011

Misconstrued

... up.

I sleep inside my boneless hide.
I fake what I have felt.
My mouth is Jekyll, my mind is Hyde.
I jump from pelt to pelt.

I never gave it


chance to grow.
I cut with words misused.
The syllables have all been thrown,
The meanings all abused.

I lie to lie. A hide to hide
A place I called myself,
But if one's to place as if to lie
Then where might be one's self?

If you carry the carriage,
Or something or other,
Then are you the carriage, too?
For marriage is merry until they both bury
The barraged, tired truth:
We
all
fall
down


sometimes.
We
all
fall
down
differently
and
at
different
speeds,
But
we
always
land
in
the
end.
Always.

A merry marriage: A mirage?
Who is
to say?
All I know is that I don't know anything for certain.
All I know is that I have yet to take away much
And still be able to smile
When
I look...

-afm

2 comments:

Danny said...

Love in the material world is imperfect.

The carriage is not the same as what you are made up. You are not what you carry. Your mind is different from the self, from you.

Yes we all make mistakes, we all suffer.

Whatever you see in that person, will fade. What you see now will grow old, and very unattractive.

You are who you are, and you can't change that.

We all wish to be happy. We all wish to be blissful. We all want to enjoy. We all want to find our perfection. We got to love each other for that. And be so upset and angry with one another about meaningless agendas, etc.

JKR said...

This makes me sad.