Feeble attempts to rationalize; are my words even considered? It seems as if I'm talking to walls. Our claims are opposing in crafting and idealizing a future. I've said all I can say. What do you fucking want from me? I keep telling myself this isn't
Happening; repeating phrases of assurance. Lashing out anxiously; fighting against the truth. There’s countless assumptions and endless excuses for everything. When I think back to when this meant the world to me, I feel a sense of security; a comforting memory. "I'm
Willing to sacrifice it all, even if it meant just having a mere second of that glory." And just as the motives were determined, the indecision crawled its way through. Countless days depleted to seldom weeks, miles and miles of void. There's a hummingbird trapped within
This rib cage and reality is guarding my escape to freedom. "I can't recall how or why this went wrong. Maybe it was the timing or the placement. Maybe I didn't try hard enough. Or maybe this is a subconscious way of arresting myself in adolescence". But if I must
Conjure a meaning or purpose or some kind of milestone, I'd conclude that I wouldn't be who I am without this experience. For this is what made me. I wouldn't be who I am without this experience A proposal has been placed in my hands, compromising for the sake of
Tomorrow. All I've ever wanted was to make the most of this. So why am I standing here with this pale look of apprehension? When I know this drive has one last stretch, one last desperate gasp of breath. For this is all I know. This is who I am. This is what it was
Worth
compositores: Wrath of Vesuvius
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