A person who sees people can only try to pierce into their soul because they claim to be so bold like the word itself.
As if everything I do simply makes you hate on my moves and achievements like your name is envy.
Greed becomes worried as if I do not pay any attention to the overly extended hand of me giving my life and sacrifice.
But sweet Care is someone whose never pay me anything but emptiness and disparity...
A never ending cycle like a never ending cry... tears forming a river giving life to everything I find dead
Giving water to plants to then give me air when life is not something I desire at this point
But the silent night and the darkness in the sky calls out to me, to hear me shout out to them and plead for my sanity
As if I created my own purgatory, and everything I do is my private hell... hindering the moons light... making its essence of non-existent hope.
Hiding... scared of my own mind. The things that slowly slip inside shows a one sided vibe
However, the light is on the other side... like the way the grass is greener but only reality provides another truth we tend to hide
This, no mine, wait.. I don't know how to feel about the demonic emotions I keep hidden inside as if I were my own safe
Packing all if maybe majority of the dangerous truths we try to keep, knowing that our mouths are not just meant for kissing but for sealing truths.
Considering all, if not every, possible conclusion you already have of me... in my own grief I seek for its collateral beauty
For its invisible to the naked conscience of my being... unbelievably kneeling down letting you know the light is not as lucrative as your imagination at times
Battling my own subconscious from running away with my insanity when all I desire is to be sane... my life felt so one sided from the inconceivable torture
Hence, the one side of me like a sheet of loose-leaf paper on a desk with no writing on it...