Recluse

I'm confused
about the things
and emotions unused

Do they exist
or am I emoting
over dead feeling
that are obfuscated?

Remnants of dreams
incarcerated

Or unattended altercations
tired of being instigated

But, then again
I'm holding on to
something,
my everything;
you, unabated

It was to go,
what was I to say
and who was I

not to know?

I was to know
but I didn't because
if I did I wouldn't
flow

I wouldn't come
or go, be able to hold
or let you go

Though you wouldn't call
it living and I wouldn't feel

for it to be so

You could term it
a death blow

Dissipation of my reality
was for none to know

I was a dark shadow,
an indigo black that
was soaking up my
left might, there after

My contempt,
the promise of the spring
ring ring, the merry sound of
my badgered self-introspection

Veneering over
visions desolate with
imperfection

There's a mirror
on the wall
I'm crawling towards it

and its cackling

over its fall

Up above there's

also a sky that's gray
replete with feelings
it was never fed...

I'm still confused
who belongs to what

and why is it that

I feel my feeling,

my entity remains unused

I'm a recluse,
ready to use
of no meaning to anyone
living to offer bitter excuse

Accept my excuse
further me to reuse

Offer me refuge
Curse my demure
Drain me of my strain

I'm a recluse
altering the infant
in the world
while the child within me
grows uninitiated...