Ramblings of an Insomniac III

    Every single second of the day that I don't break down and burst into tears is an astonishing accomplishment.  It's a tiny pebble moved from the dark mountain that is my always forboding past.  Every painted smile is the stage make-up that makes the days slide by with as little scarring as possible.
    These empty eyes that sink endlessly into the true me are easily lost in the twists and turns, the infinate gyrating confussion.  They convulse violently in the lies spewed by other for thier own personal gain.
    People will cling to you until thier needs are fulfilled then they proceed to push you off the ledge of honesty and fidelity.  Toss you into the harsh winds and eventually you crash into the hot stone pavement of reality.
    Forever jaded are your views of the world.  Trust becomes an illusion, It's a tunnel painted convincingly on the side of a building.  Placed there strategicly to make you think you have access, that someone holds you near and dear enough to grant you such trust.  So you open all the doors and windows.  You open every entry point to your soul and psyche and they stroll on in and demolish the place you tidied up just for them.
    That's when your warm damp face smacks against the cold solidness of the wall they masquarded.  You do the only thing that occurs to you ar the time.  Your tired legs buckle under the pressure and you slide back down that indestructable facade.  You crumble into a pile of "never agains".
    Every tear that drips down that beautiful face yours is made of oozing black tar.  Brushing away is pointless, it stays, forever staining your reputation.  These tears layer one on top of the other getting heavier and thicker.  Soon you can no longer hold your head high.  But we are all dark faced figures, slumping forward due to the immense weight of our pain, our mistakes, our loves, loses and beliefs.