DRAFT: This module has unpublished changes.
DRAFT: This module has unpublished changes.
DRAFT: This module has unpublished changes.
Unidentified
It has come to be my most prevalent trait
A vortex of anguish that helps me escape
It’s an ambiguous language understood by few
It’s the longest relationship I’ve somehow committed to
It’s my source of revival yet a powerful curse
Grounding me daily but making things worse
I try to destroy it time after time
But it always allures me with its promising lies
Is it an abstract picture that comes with a twist?
Is the paintbrush my blade and the canvas my wrist?
Is it somehow the tears that my eyes cannot shed?
Is it words and expressions that come out in red?
I'm so lost at this point! I just cannot explain…
Why this terrible outlet makes sense to my brain
Why the laws of physics sometimes do not apply
Why I seem to be living but feel so dead inside
DRAFT: This module has unpublished changes.
Written Age 23
DRAFT: This module has unpublished changes.
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