I am afraid.
But I am not afraid of death.
Or war.
Or fighting for an unknown cause.
I am afraid of myself.
My own self-destruction scares me more than anything.
Because when I am angry at someone, I try my best to keep my calm because I don't know if that person can handle the yelling.
The story telling.
The forgetting.
But when I am mad at myself.
There are no limits.
There isn't a boundary.
Because I already know that I deserve each slap.
Each kick.
Each and every scar that decorates my body. I deserved.
Because I was not born to be right.
YOU ARE READING
Words.
PoetryThis is a book I write in to relieve my mind of the horror it creates for itself. Poems or not, they're words. Definitions or examples, they're words. My words. Read it or not, they're my words.
