Always outspoken, yet forever silent
Tonight, opinions hang in claustrophobic spaces
As conversation closes in oppressing pulsations
Social anxiety reduces body into a limpid weed
Good only for the trample of larger feet, heavier boots
How do I keep my head up when I feel my spine rupture under the burden of conformity
A personality should not be whitewashed.
Comatose beyond the point seen behind own eye
To shutter and stutter world wealth;
Knowledge and beauty, the all-encompassing accompanied emotion
They drain from me, like a spirit in death
Taken out of body, this shell of confidence mutilated within a pressure pit of conformity
Supporting sporting triumphs
Automobile constructive criticism
Metamorphosis into a detained self
A forfeited French fancy
Poetic verses are the words ejected from a page
Love, left locked in shadows
Darkened by demanding change
Emotion feigned into numbing non-committal opinion
When wasn't I enough
Who I am, disestablished onto lower runs
Torn
The mirror no longer reflecting my birth
My make up
Just a man. Hollow and lost
Now I am what you always wanted me to be
Just a man. Hollow and lost
See more of Phillip Knight's poetry and upcoming releases at Fishbowl Publishing.