My shoulders sit crooked, laden with guilt...
How can i strive to study such in human minds,
Yet refuse to come to terms with my own
My mind is like a trial of love, lust, and unfortunate revelations,
Leading to underground rebellions
Buried deep within my heart.
And i feel that I'll age early if i continue down this path,
I could put pen to paper,
But a person i hate is screaming back.
I question who i have become.
Drowning in my second hand morals...
Echoed in my head,
Swaying my decisions,
bringing discomfort to my bed.
I'm split between two personalities:
One in which i please everyone,
And another in which i repel everyone.
I feel cursed with copious worries
And crippling fears of death,
Yet gifted with invincibility,
Because i haven't died yet.
I stare at my phone knowing...
They will come quickly to my aid.
But I shiver...
And let it fall from my hands.
I'm the hero in this story ,
I don't need to be saved...