Possession of Content

Spewingputrid lies of ignorance,

Spreading relief over streams of mascara stains,

Wiping away tears with pretence.

You raised fears in me that I could not handle

you brought about visions of the end of the world

(the end of my world) a gargling pit of self hatred

self hatred that only develops further upon the development

of decisive actions – ones I both regret and commend.

Thick blood flows through my veins,

And feels thanks that I enclose it within myself,

While your blood lives a lonely external life.

Saddening that even pain can become numbness

A trickle of blood rating as worthy as water

(which in many places ironically rates as gold should,

had they ever felt the warmth of wealth)

saddening that we can bleed for the sake of a tortured heart.

Tears of hatred, tears of love,

The sensation of loss, unhappiness, injustice?

A tortured life in a world rich of happiness?

Is happiness bought or sold - does it grow from possession

(or theft) is it not possible that happiness – and indeed sadness

is only relevant to an internal force. It can rely on situation,

on conditions, the only difference being, in our world…

…there is something to fall back on.