Metaphorical false smile

If I can smile in pain, then can I write about love and peace when all I know is conflict and hate. If the rain never stops in my world can I write about sun rays and bright days. Watching this false smile drain down into these metaphorical lies tell me am I wrong, if it's what the people want. Tell me? What am i to do with these feelings that are too strong to accept, to ferious to withstand? on this journey through life i met a dandelion in search for a home, I met cast irons combs in search of the stone from which is created. I've watched as these metaphorical false smiles kill philosophical hearts that wonder in dark. What is wonderland if its dark? and when false smiles fade from jaded faces tell me?, what will comfort the pain

False Pretense

I've pretended to be things that i am not, pretended to be something and someone that i am not. so much so that i fear that its diluted my very experience of living, making it impossible for me to give any part of me not damaged by these false persona's. I've played this dangerous game in areas of my life to which i fear no recovery can ever be found. I fear that even in this fractured heart Ive created that even my own fear could just be another pretense.

there are things i wish i never knew, wish this human heart never desired or struggled screaming despartely in the dark for, wished this game never existed and althought i understand, categorize and analyze every sectioned off part of me i know the real me  seen its face and i know that i will alway be alone in that revelation. Maybe that just another lie i us tocope with the nature of my reality.

Lately i find myself whispering what could be deemed as sinister things to myself in an effort to queit this irritating need for human connection. Is it all to coop with the truth of my reality or am i simpl another diluted and polluted sould seeking clarity. Im beginning to understand that contact without connection is the same as sex without love, merely the prostitution of ones presence in oder to fill some void that cant even be reached.Maybe im just a whore of company in fear of the obvious loneliness while the subliminal torments me silently. Even this is all pretend....Nobodys gonna read this

Beyond human conditions

Tell me, what is this path that lies beyond the broken human condition sparked by mental ignition. Should I fall to depression at this soulful remission to my own headless confession.Beyond this human condition found useless expressions to an emotional me that could never reach a soul or touch a heart. To the edge of all feelings begins the end of all reason and now I'm wondering what will become these lonely emotions.

With nothing let but solitary commotion, these lifeless confession breed only heartless connections born in the dark. Looking for art, looking for parts to the jigsaw of this pictureless existence. We fight the resistance of all fertile things once thought to be futile we are left with this bent tile path and gold maps leading us beyond the human condition