Self-discovery

I need to get out.

Im a slave of self hate.

Anxiety has blinded me from becoming someone great.

Distractions have numbers that are evolving.

Too many of which I've been causing.

I am a broken record.

Singing the blues.

Living in a modern day time loop.

My 22nd trip around the sun.

Face up, fingers pointed to the ceiling.

Pretending the cracks in between was the alignment of silver stars.

A night that felt like my last.

No wish made.

I live in a home where wishing is waiting.

And freedom is a figment of imagination.

I convinced myself that the words I've written were 

only innocent.

They have the symptoms a disease called existing.

But I still hope for a remedy.