They keep secrets here.
by courtney metcalf
Wherever I am.
Riddling my brain.
Questioning my health.
Every move could be planned..
Am I torturing myself?
Is this my conscience
Do I need help?
Should I trust the people and things here,
To get me to where I need to be,
To help the smoke clear..
So I can figure out what this is
What is the point?
Am I really here..
Or am I stuck in some void?
Some dark space in the back of my mind..
Passed out in a coma
Is there any place to hide..
Am I just someone's thought?
Will I dissappear in their wake?
Has my whole life been just a dream?
Will I remember it, or think it was fake?
Will it have been a nightmare?
Will it have been someone's thought?
Will it have been an unfinished story,
One they just didn't continue the plot?
What if we were only the letters laid on paper from the pen that someone was writting?
What if they just got bored with the story and had an ending they never planned on deciding?
So they crumbled you up,
They threw you in the trash.
Now your dead.
You're life has passed.
It could have kept going, but someone didn't think much of it.
To them, it was just a story,
Made up and you were just the puppet.
Or what if it ended in a great big spin,
You're spinning down a tunnel,
But you start going up again
Because down the whole you fell,
Beneath the trees and the grass,
But you came out falling from the sky,
It being one big circular path
The worm whole?
The circle of life?
The Alice in wonderland?
Starting at the top, falling to the bottom,
Which thew you to the top again?
A panoramic view.
A perspective untold.
What is life to you?
Truth is, you may never know.