Mind

The mind is a bizarre thing
used properly it can contain the secrets of life
and incorrectly can result in death
but those in the middle, suffering a harsh reality
too smart to be dumb
too dumb to be enlightened
but enlightened to a certain degree
blind, but we see
deaf, but we hear
if the mind is over-used, just a little bit
too much power the user will consume
and ultimately end up in their destruction
I believe I think too much
as over-analysis is my specialty
but no one sees the scars this places on my fragile mind
in order to hide my wounds I keep myself busy
to show the world that nothing is wrong
I don't want to worry them
it's not their problem
it's mine
and mine alone
and alone i shall suffer
and alone i shall cry
and alone i shall bleed
and alone i shall die
but this white light
this heat i feel in my chest
is this hope?
my pathetic hope that someone will rescue me
from my never-ending darkness
the wounds have never closed
I just hide them well
so you don't have to see
you don't have to worry
you don't have to think
this rotten lie I've built up from the ground
I want to break it;
see it crumble down
If i break it down, then I'll be able to see
the part of you that truly needs me
because as two souls intertwine
the pain is gone, and you are mine.