Apathy- Born Cliche

How is it disillusion finds me
in every crevice of my soul
i attempt to scurry under some part of me, that perhaps remains intact
partitioned from the reality that threatens, that jades
tainted by tumultuous waves of reality,
accompanied by ghosts that swear to be friends

i know the truths that i risk to acknowledge
searching simultaneously for an essence that offers comfort
rather then brisk goodbyes.
My disappointment enflames engulfing my heart
that dwells in a microcosm of" what if's" and "maybes"

i remember this road, this loss of reason
this apathy born cliche
the inconsistency of this dream
how i always lack the courage of my convictions
driven blindly with the raging force to need

allowing loss to permeate within me, gathering a plethora of unshed tears that have welded themselves too far too reach

dislocated thoughts, persistently play a game of merry go round within my head
drifting forever incoherent,
but forever mine

this fading pleasure resists, even as my mind begins purging the tempting excuses to stay
my many facades ready at hand, to place upon the innocence that trembles weakly within this vessel

replaced by brilliant optimism that takes my hand and always guides me through another day