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Pantomime

Updated on October 1, 2014

To Whom It May Concern

To Whom It May Concern.

I am paralyzed by my urn.

I am encapsulated by my demons.

Fluent in the language they're speaking.

There they are, ever-present and distinct.

I can see them, and I'm not required to blink.

What can I do, what salvation to take.

Where can I go, have I earned a break?

I feel as though I deserve my strife.

I feel I am the blade, I am the knife.

If this is true, if I control my tumult.

Why don't I change, or seek a different result.

Pain is my companion, I love it so much.

I have grown to accept its familiar touch.

Now that I have determined my role is prominent,

I will do all I can to ease my torment.

Or perhaps I will maintain, I will not deviate.

I, however, have accepted my fate.

I will travel in the dark, alone and confined.

Screaming and yelling, a pantomime.


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    • Dustin K Phillips profile image
      Author

      Dustin Phillips 2 years ago from Waynesburg, KY

      Thank you Amy. I appreciate the feedback. I have enjoyed reading your work also. Thanks!

    • Amy Naylor profile image

      Amy Naylor 2 years ago from England

      Ooo shivers. A very intriguing poem and nicely wrapped up. I look forward to reading more.

    • Dustin K Phillips profile image
      Author

      Dustin Phillips 2 years ago from Waynesburg, KY

      Thank you very much! I truly appreciate that. Feel free to follow me for more poetry to come.

    • S R Gibby-Brown profile image

      Sckylar Gibby-Brown 2 years ago from Phoenix, AZ

      Wow, that last line blew me away. Really good ending.