Climb the highest mountain, punch the face of god
I am the god d@mn frankenstein!
I am nothing but fragments and pieces,
Sewed and stitched together like a f---ed up blanket.
My brain isn't even mine anymore,
Taken over by some demented individual.
I walk around in this new body, scared of everyone,
Scaring everyone, hurting in places no one can see.
My heart is artificial, made from cold metal
And pumping nothing but regrets into my body.
I'm not me, I try to remember what me was,
Or who me used to be, but I have nothing but
Stale flashes of memory that dissipate quickly.
My skin is pale and full of scars I did not make,
I possess anger but it is foreign to me.
I want to cry, but these aren't my eyes, and probably
Aren't my tears either, so I hold it back.
Even my hair feels fake, perhaps a wig to hide
The ugly thoughts that trample around
In this worn down, broken mind.
My legs aren't familiar, I cannot run away
From it all with them, they want to stand still.
Similar to these arms, which no longer flail.
I simply stand here, knowing that I am not me,
Knowing that people can't help but to stare
At the mess presented before them.
I wanted no part in my sudden meltdown.
I wanted no part in the beasts who thought
I was humpty dumpty and easy to put back together.
Nothing is in working order and everything
Is either used or poorly put back in place.
I was whole once;
Now I'm bits and pieces superglued back together.
3-22-12
Sewed and stitched together like a f---ed up blanket.
My brain isn't even mine anymore,
Taken over by some demented individual.
I walk around in this new body, scared of everyone,
Scaring everyone, hurting in places no one can see.
My heart is artificial, made from cold metal
And pumping nothing but regrets into my body.
I'm not me, I try to remember what me was,
Or who me used to be, but I have nothing but
Stale flashes of memory that dissipate quickly.
My skin is pale and full of scars I did not make,
I possess anger but it is foreign to me.
I want to cry, but these aren't my eyes, and probably
Aren't my tears either, so I hold it back.
Even my hair feels fake, perhaps a wig to hide
The ugly thoughts that trample around
In this worn down, broken mind.
My legs aren't familiar, I cannot run away
From it all with them, they want to stand still.
Similar to these arms, which no longer flail.
I simply stand here, knowing that I am not me,
Knowing that people can't help but to stare
At the mess presented before them.
I wanted no part in my sudden meltdown.
I wanted no part in the beasts who thought
I was humpty dumpty and easy to put back together.
Nothing is in working order and everything
Is either used or poorly put back in place.
I was whole once;
Now I'm bits and pieces superglued back together.
3-22-12
Comment On This Poem --- Vote for this poem
I am the god d@mn frankenstein!
I am the god d@mn frankenstein!
