Broken Word

Speaking from the heart,
with an undertone of misery.
I lay broken words on the table,
unable to sugar coat
my own emotions.

A voice of pride,
yet undecided.
I preach the very thoughts
that I myself cannot believe.

How I perceive myself,
is far from ideal,
a complex mind
plagued by demons,
unable to heal.

Rock bottom, river bed,
never quite sure,
of the truth in my head.
Was it words that were spoken,
or words I created,
I try numbing the world
but I can’t stay sedated.

Every morning is torture,
And the songs of the birds,
are a symphony soothing
my own broken words.

~ Andrew
I’ve always been one to give advice but I can never make use of it myself


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