Through the fire I bleed, this pain is something I need. Fake friends, fake people, tonguing the barrel of a revolver, spinning in circles, my mind drawing a blank. Constantly drowning in my think tank. Fuck, I remember when I had good luck. Is it a sickness that I'm always looking to the stars for the answers, and the trees to breathe. I can't stand people anymore. I'm too far gone. A favourite song, I inject, a reject, unwanted, no one understands my true self, always assuming bad intentions. Now for something that I can't even see to take seemingly everything from me. I had a good life and opportunity, all that I worked for vaporized. All those years digging myself out of my grave, to finally making it. I know I'm not alone, and I'll always admit it. My life is easy, but I'm still suffocating. Stronger than most, but I'm still breaking, I can't stop. With the world on fire, how can anyone possibly breathe if to not look for the trees? Digital everything, I'm losing touch. No love in my heart, but an addiction. Keep feeding me pain; it keeps my eyes open, and my heart beating.
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Release
PoetryThis is a collection of my writing from the past 7 years. Before I started to write, I was a very lost individual, as are most teens, but I was lost in darkness. I was too afraid to move anywhere at all. I hid in the dark, debilitated by my own anxi...
