everything we do, every war we lose,
my demons are still strong
my angels gave up on me long ago
can't believe i'm still fighting alone
i'm still getting beaten
i'm not dying that is
should i celebrate my life?
i never asked for it
YOU ARE READING
my livid body. poetry
Poetryan escape from the world seems like a dream i am leaving it with self-esteem _ it's mine, except if written that it's not.
