Thursday, 26 March 2009

Berating myself.

Rigidly holding on to my soul
no one do I allow to come near
Making myself unintentionally cold
hurting those who to me are dear.

Like a fool I relentlessly pine
for something which I cannot thank-
someone whom I can call mine;
someone on whom I can bank.

But at the very first signs of interest
I (on reflex) doubly secure my guard
until the faint bond is forcibly stressed
and is broken, with disregard.

A fear of getting hurt might've led to this;
perhaps it was a step
towards ensuring solitary bliss
by making myself inept

to interact with someone, connect,
like every other person does -
and yet, I brood over and dissect
each word s/he utters.

And thus I continually berate myself,
an emotional masochist
continue to dream away all sense -
dream of being forbiddenly kiss'd.

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