Round the corner is January.
Almost 23,
Scratching the earth for what I should be,
Searching the universe,
Talking to my fears,
Talking to my faith.
Round and round,
Leads me to this point;
I hate my thoughts,
I hate I can't be normal sometimes.
So I write,
Trying to erase myself,
Be a different self,
Clean the shelf,
Long line of my pain I write,
Tell me the secret to happiness,
I think I need to change.
Lately I see peace in death,
The calmness in the after,
Is this the devil's whisper ?
Or I'm getting too comfortable in my position,
I tell myself am playing my position.
Shooting the basket,
But I've been missing,
Maybe am too lonely to see clearly,
Anxiety, am bathing in my thoughts,
I feel lost,
I feel lost,
Uh, I feel lost.
Will I ever come back to the surface again?
I'm swimming, I'm in the deep end.
I see the sharks, should I say goodbye?
Or taste little of this water and feel the high?
It's all the same to me,
My pain and happiness.
Lies, truths.
I can't see through, truths,
Maybe the lies became part of my truce,
With the dark that I love,
Am drowning but I feel good .. here,
I don't feel lost,
I don't feel lost,
Hey, ... I don't feel lost.
VOCÊ ESTÁ LENDO
THE WILLOW TREE
PoesiaIt's a struggle for my sanity through a moment of rage and out of space, psychetry is my build as I layer my truths, it's a journey, the second trip
