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...
I see my pattern
shattered, shackled i am
staring back to define this dilemma
this strained compelling
forced into fragile servitude to a meaker version of myself
shallow conviction i cant control
but weap and mourn for the love i kill when it sees me smile
i know why but it doesnt fucking matter
I'm curious to the motivation
I'm curious to the motivation behind such a raw emotional poem, its great.
"Some people die at 25 but buried at 75" Benjamin Franklin
Just reflecting on life, how
Just reflecting on life, how we become the people we are, being your own worst enemy..