Flesh
A flesh that is not filled with scars, yet covers the scars. Scars carved into your bones because that is how deep it hurt you.
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A flesh that is not filled with scars, yet covers the scars. Scars carved into your bones because that is how deep it hurt you.
I stare at my reflection in the mirror, Looking back at me was someone I did not recognise. A look of pain in my glass blue eyes, All the anger was deep down inside.
Lost in reality. If we knew what our future would turn out to be, would we change it. I wake up and think why did I go this route the hard way round the road that would only mean me relying on myself.
Flickering across the cracking plaster ceiling, the firelight dances like water flirting with the sunlight. Its peaks and valleys accented with shadows and orange glow.
Are you trying to convince me or yourself.
I'm really bad. I have to tell you that. Right now you're reading this, probably thinking that I'm over thinking things right now and everything is not as bad. Things will get better.
Three o'clock in the morning. You don't even know why you're still awake. And suddenly, deep inside, something, triggered a few days ago, pushes the carefully installed dominos of your personality.
Why was I born on Earth. This retarded planet. Wherever I go, I never feel at home. There's nothing that feels right here. The light. The daily cycle. The years. My body. People around me.
I'm a projector, that's all I am. The picture you see, is simply a scam. The voice that you hear, is put on for show The true man I fear, was lost long ago.
Quiet solitude, this peaceful moment, contemplating on memory's lost. Many times in this state, so often spent.