Nemesis

I used to be an idealist with a romantic twist

quick to be understanding

withstanding being understood

those were the days when i still smiled wild

my road since had been long to tread

I guess I misread the writing on the wall

because my mind grew keen

my heart shrank small

being the archetypal addict my life has been tragic

I would indulge you to divulge all the pain I inflicted internally

but doesn't everyone really?

The skeletons they hide

the homicides of the parts of self we commit

when the longing to belong impedes like a stampede

on the love of leading a spontaneous life

we concede to undergo the pull of the undertow

where our ghosts come back in a flurry of fury

from blood red to opaque it seems there is no escape

from being haunted

predisposed to jump the gun as well as numb

Im trying to find a solution other then retribution

some kind of internal restoration

to raise my dead and treat their wounds

to kiss my nemesis full on the mouth

to stop running and to heal myself