Wondering if you knew,That this whole time,I wouldn't have cared,Honesty is all I ever asked for,All the little things I looked over,Honestly wondering if you ever really meant it.And the tears they won't fall,Honest, isn't that all I've been?Thinking that if there's a question on my mind I ask it,And if there's any doubt I state it.Why is it more and more lately I have to force myself to sit in my seat and be still,When all that I want to do is have the tears drop,And the voice that wishes to scream,Wondering why in those moments I really don't take the stick to the trees,Wondering just how many dents I'll leave in it.And now here I lay wondering just how close you wish me to be,And what exactly you haven't told me,Or what you've twisted up,My heart I really can't say it's sunk all too low,I almost feel guilty for the questioning I put you through,I wonder if you've ever played hearts.I spent the longest time playing the cards,But I'm not sure you even know how to play it,My mind it stays awake,Concerned but not all too worried,Looking in the mirror,Knowing if you don't have my back,At least I do.An eyebrow raises,Wondering if I really mean it?And I guess I do,Without you, it would be tragic,But it's not like I've forgotten about how much I've had to catch myself,And for some reason all too often,My hands raise tempted to swing,Fists balled and drawn back,And oh God does it hurt,The barbed wire I hold inside of them.Letting it go as I drop,And fall down.I cannot tell if I'm tempted to turn out the light to hide the tears,Or stay standing my fingers clutched around themselves.I'm afraid that my existence has diminished,Worn itself down in the somber tones and frustrations,My own self-control hiding my violent tendencies,That is generally placed mostly on me.Don't you understand from that first thought a while ago I started dying,The cloud that's hung over my head.Tears they flood and my hands are tied,I keep them that way,Because don't you understand,Don't you get it?I let them go and I fear that the razor in my drawer,Just might be reduced down to the blade,And I admit it's easy to tell myself not to,Because I've used it how I'm supposed to,An' now it is dull,There isn't much use,Because my heart couldn't stand it,Although I'll admit it,I've been so close to opening up,Once again such a hole,Held back, only because I fear I somehow couldn't manage to hide it.-Joshua Banks JJAJ
YOU ARE READING
When Sanity is Lost
PoetryAnd I just couldn't stop, before I knew it I was picking the pen up again. My second book in process this is soon to begin editing once my last one is done. As always hope you enjoy and find my insta @these.are.true.feelings
