The Perfect Reminder

This old poem is probably the most honest and raw thing I ever wrote. It was a “note to self” kind of thing, never meant to be read by others, written in one of the darkest periods of my life.

I am lucky enough to not be in danger of losing touch with my true self & my presence in life anymore, to trickle through the fabric of the world and dissolve. It has been a long, painful, and winding road, but I got to the other side and it’s bright and open and blissfully simple out here. It’s pure joy to be… to just BE, and to SEE everything inside and out without any veils of judgment and any agenda.

So as I stumbled across this poem among my files, it just felt right to bring it out into the open as well, to let the sunlight dry its frays so other eyes may find it. 🙂


The Perfect Reminder

March 2009

I wake up tired once again,
The night was long,
The darkness stays.
An empty carcass
Filled in haste,
What sorry reason to exist,
And how I try to prove that I’m myself,
And what a waste…

I comb my hair
And wear the clothes I think they like.
I fake the care,
Knock out my heart
And paint my face,
I talk and joke,
I try to try,
I simulate to be alive—
I lie.

The images I have reflected,
These flawless nightmares…
I don’t know.
And all these years
Incarcerated
Behind the deepest depth inside,
Deeply neglected,
I’m alone.

Unequally divided, always lost
In shallow imagery,
The greatest lie I’ve ever told
I dare not see—
I’m never whole,
I’m never me,
I lie about my lying to my soul,
And through this endless lying
Fail to be.

So many things pass through
Like I was never there,
Like I was someone else.
They pass in vain.
I am disrupted, perforated, unaware,
I only feel the empty pain
Of never really being
Anywhere.

My heart is liquid sorrow,
I am gone.
I’ve scratched at myself for so long
There’s nothing left
Of what I’ve done.
The careful face, that perfect one,
Was never real,
Was never done,
I’m caught inside an endless dream
I can’t outrun.

I know there’s hope out there
But I am blind,
My world is mist
And darkness
And unkind.
For every glimpse of light
I pay in blood.
There’s no way out,
There’s no way through,
There’s no way back
Into my mind.

Published by Veronica Sicoe

Science Fiction Author — I deliver the aliens.

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