Untitled/Unfinished #3
i used to think that if i held my breath long enough and lied as if i was in a coffin, i'd escape for a little.
i used to think that my room was my palace, then it became a half-prison and a half-refuge.
i used to think that love would bend to my will, that i could charm and play a part that i knew wasn't for me. then heartbreak walked in. then, years later, he appeared to change the narrative.
i used to think that music was safe, that it was my therapy. then every rhythm i loved became darker with certain things, and my love for it is strangled.
i used to think that mirror was just glass- then it became my critic.
i used to think i was invincible. that i was tough. then i grew up and realised that time was passing me by.
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