giving up right now would be lovely.
but, would that make. everything better?
please, one more second, to fix this all
I mean, an hour before. this. all. falls apart
There once was a man who hated his own skin.
he was never comfortable in it not even when
everyone in the town was complimenting him
on his clear complexion and a healthy glow
so one day he was scratching his skin until
he scratched so hard he broke through the first layer
then came another, then followed another another
till he had a opening as big as his doubts
in the middle of his chest, he crawled out
like a butterfly he was finally free
he floated on confidence and walked in his blood feet
following his footprints, we walk onto a field
his blood soaked stains suddenly flees
into the air and up towards the sky
he was finally free
soaring through the clouds, droplets of red
falls heavenly down showering the rest
of the world who could only stare
Jealous they didn’t have the courage
that came with undressing your warmth
and putting on nothing. creating a future that’s up for you to forge
My room is so clean
I wish it was like this forever
with the morning sun beam
leaking through the curtain’s seam
when night come, it’s empty and still
I’m laying down, eyes closed
mind turning it’s dream mill
I suddenly fall, eyes opened
I look around
My room is messy, filthy and disgusting
mouth dry, head pulses with a pound
I look around, it’s time to get going.
Maybe it’s the lack of unconditional love that makes you frantic to test people’s limits. everyone has a breaking point, how can you denounce them as not enough when you push them over the edge?
