I Am Donnie Darko

by Lucy D1am0nd   Apr 29, 2007


I love the way the blood seeps into the lines on my hand.
I love how it never stops flowing through my veins.
My red paint.
It's art.
I love how real it is.
And that for once something isn't fake.

I love how no one but me knows how crazy I am.
I love how I can get away with it.
I love how this is not intended to be a poem and it is exactly what I'm thinking and feeling right now as a human should.

Why do I wear a mask?
Everyone else does...
If I truly didn't want to be just like them I would show my true identity.
But then they would see me for what I really am.
They all think I'm so different, but I'm just wearing a different mask on the outside to what they're wearing.

They don't understand why I chose this particular mask.
Does it scare you?
I'M so frightened.
So confused.
So ALONE.

Still bleeding, not now emotionally, but physically.
The difference is astounding.
I love it.
Yet I fear it.

Fear and love, so much in between.
The two strongest feelings a human being could experience.
What if to love is to face your fear?
Let down your guard?
TRUST???

No, I can't.
I feel like dieing.
These feelings are normal for a teenager?
That's so unfair.
No one should feel like this.

I'm just an emotional person.
I'm just a bit insane, secretly.
It's not dangerous yet, because there's still that fear holding me back.
Imagine the devastation I could cause without fear to stop me.
I there fore I love it.
And I'm afraid of that....

I hate how when I finally find something to love, it's taken away from me.
Snatched from my grasp.
So I want to give up, but it's as if my heart is thirsty.
And it's trying to climb out my throat to find love.
Like I'm the barrier, the wall.
Doesn't my heart know I'm just trying to protect it?

Haven't I learnt my lesson yet?
After being used so many times?
I still want more?
I guess so....

If I didn't have words or music to express these feeling I fear I might explode.
Words of beauty and expression and emotion.
Powerful words.
Cellar Door.
Poetry.
That's what life is.
Life is a poem.

And my poem is long and complicated.
Dark and painful, even to read.
I wish I could lay it out like a movie and make sense of it all.
Turn back time and change things.
Who can go through life and not regret at least one thing?
No one.

I can't begin to remember all the horrible things I regret.
I try to forget about things.
I wish I could wipe my entire memory.
I don't care if I even wipe the good things.
My pro's could never out-weigh the con's.

Death seems like a self-destruct button.
I could push it at anytime but it would be the coward's way out.
But what do I care what people think or say about me?
I'd be dead.
It wouldn't matter.
Nothing matters.

To think all this madness and depression is all my brains fault, and partly my heart.
These are just organs!
They're destroying my life.
It's like they have to get their own way and they don't care if they kill me trying.
We're all just sacks of meat!
Then these goddamn feelings take over.

Why is fear regarded worse than hate?
Because with hate you can change your mind so easily.
Hate is controllable.
People can manipulate you.
People are CONTROLLABLE.
Fear is more personal and uncontrollable.
Unpredictable.

I hate change but I also hate repetition.
I contradict myself but somehow manage to keep on living.
We're not as fragile as we think we are.
We can do amazing, phenomenal things.
But keep in mind we are also not indestructible.
A constant reminder of death that lingers over us like a hungry vulture.

0


Did You Like This Poem?

Latest Comments

  • 16 years ago

    by Gem

    This was excellent.. a real powerful piece of free verse that keeps you hooked from beginning to end
    "We're not as fragile as we think we are.
    We can do amazing, phenomenal things.
    But keep in mind we are also not indestructible."

    Excellent contradictions. And true as well
    Well done
    5/5
    *Gem*