Victorious (r&r!)

83) Victorious. 2001.

The years have grown shorter
As I have become older,
But I still feel the pain
Of my time gone by
Inside my fat, aching heart.
Though time and distance
Seem to banish such thoughts
From this numb, dead head
That still falls apart.
Is this what they mean
When they say I got over it?
Say I’ve come through it?
Say I’ve achieved leaving
The past behind?
They’ve only seen what I’ve told them
Ignored what I’ve hidden from them;
Dismissing the heartache, the anger, the rage.
Not seeing my sadness, nor my hope
And not me,
When me, myself’s still trapped in a cage.
They didn’t see my longing
To feel wanted or loved
Or be worth something again.
I’m sick of pursuing a life that’s not mine,
I’m sick of wasting their precious time.
I stand in false victory,
A product of therapy,
A piece with no history
But heartfelt misery.
More lost than found
In adopted normality,
I’m a technicality
In the way of reality,
This isn’t victory,
I’ll die in recovery.

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