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Rated: E · Poetry · Adult · #2073830
Feeling a little weird today, I create and in many ways destroy myself as I write.

-Behind This Stare-
by Keaton Foster

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Behind
This stare
Nothing
Is there
Empty pools
Swirling broods
Of decimated fools
Ones who tried
To save me
Ones who failed
The impossible
Deeper still.

Beyond color
Far past humanity
Within
The treasured recesses
Of troubled obliqueness
Is where you’ll find me
In such a place
I’ll always be
A homeless home
For a person like me
A person bound by
And within himself.

Behind
This stare
Nothing
Is sparred
Is it free
Unchained
Constructs
Made pointless
Parameters
Non existent
Devious things
Are regularly
Available
There are no limits
All things
Imaginable.

Behind
This stare
A wilderness of ideas
Is full of creatures
Far more terrifying
Than myself
But unlike most
They wish me no harm
Because to them
Thy creator
Is a God
But to me
I am no deity
No false prophet.

I am nothing free
Only blackness seized
I am an architect
In such tortured ways
Not because it is
What I ever wished
But because it is
What was meant
Part of my breath
Bits of each beat
Through my body
Inside my mind.

I am this
Because of what
Was done to me
And in many ways
What was not
Behind
This stare
Nothing
Lives there
It is home to me
And all that I am…



Behind This Stare
Written by Keaton Foster Copyright © 2016.

© Copyright 2016 Keaton Foster: Know My Hell! (keatonfoster at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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