Time After Time

The masks that I wear are crumbling.
Naked, I stand alone,
wondering as I watch you sleep,
will I ever find my way home?

For I’ve lost myself again.
The words I speak, repetitions from the past
Reliving each moment as I speak them
How much longer can this charade last?

For even as the world around me churns forward
I’m constantly pedaling back in time,
reliving every moment without seeking resolutions
empty words repeating, time after time.

I’ve lost myself again amidst a past long gone
seeking your pity and wasting precious time
like a record stuck along an ever deepening groove,
every mistake from the past repeating,
time after time.


This is an old poem I just found while cleaning my little writing corner and debating whether I should destroy this and all the other poetry and drawings like I do all my diaries and hand-written poetry from that time.

Do you ever destroy your poetry?  Maybe the ones written during sad times or do you keep them?  Why? 

when the masks fell

when the masks fell
and we were revealed
each one of us, our skins
we screamed in anger
and in shame
unable to face the world
with just our names
the ones we chose to hide our words
when in despair, we carved out
with swords
the hearts of many who
never believed
that we’d amount to something
or give us reprieve
for being human, for being
so unfailingly open to the world
and so gullible
if only to allow the feelings
to seep in
to soak through our defenses
and mold us
from within
to yank away the layers
we hide behind
and reveal the truth that lies
so the masks fell
but we’ll be alright
for we’re writers, we reveal
what others hide
out of sight.


*Image by @Designthewild on DeviantArt