The War Within

a struggle of morality

I have been conflicted as of late

I am at war with my flesh

I make a good face for those around me

But inside my mind is a mess

My thoughts cascade to a variety of things

That I dare not say out loud

At times I don't recognize myself when I muse

Some thoughts are so dark, mean, and proud

My eyes are the worst

They go to where they know they should not go

but still

they go

My imagination takes over and creates a fantasy

A fallacy

Where I entertain with my senses of what is not there but only in the theatre of my mind

Where smells, taste, and touch is almost all to real and I shut out what's in front of me

I indulge my creativity

Pushing forth for art's sake

As if art gave a s**t

I try to hide under the lie of self improvement where there is only self

My actions and my words are sweet and kind, but I feel like they are the lie

The dark, lying, lustful person in my mind is the truth

The war I feel isn't over content of thought but of my motivation

Today I am repulsed by what creeps in my head, but tomorrow I will revel in it

Roll in it

Surround myself in it

The war is I don't want my weaknesses to win

Ground is gained and ground is lost, both sides take casualties

But what is the state of my heart?

The only comfort I take is that the war still rages

I'm still bothered

It's the point where it doesn't bother me that I have lost