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Everything in this world
has been described as a world ᅠᅠᅠfull of 𝙝𝙤𝙥𝙚, 𝙙𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙢𝙨 and as a child
who lived in a 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙡𝙙 full of that.
It was 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘷𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦.
As you grow older, you still try to keep that in your mind and you also have given some sort of offering to the world by 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 the world in a 𝙗𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩. It was going great, nothing was getting your way. Then comes 7th grade, you know feeling down every now and then but you're still here trying to paint a 𝙥𝙞𝙘𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙚 you know you're headed; It was a 𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦 of you with not a sign of misery but a genuine feeling of 𝙟𝙤𝙮.
Now that I look at it, I've wondered how did I end up here. You'll know life really fucked you up good because here you are cursing and asking yourself 𝙬𝙝𝙮 are you still alive. It makes you ask how you ended up getting swallowed by an overwhelming black hole that's draining the 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘳 of your now so 𝙙𝙪𝙡𝙡 life. You asked yourself if you should've drank those 𝙚𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘦𝘵𝘢𝘮𝘰𝘭 𝘵𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘴 in under an 𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙧, no one would've seemed to care but you were still scared.
ᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠ Deep down, you know
you wanted to 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦.
You were just never given
a 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙤𝙣
why 𝘺𝘰𝘶 should
keep on living.
As I am writing this at 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨, I still ask myself the question that takes the dreams and a possible future for others.
𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙄 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 that there are no guarantees that you nor I still hold a purpose for this world full of nothing but 𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙮.
If you are reading this, thank you for reading a piece of my diary.
YOU ARE READING
a life's work filled with words
Poetrya compilation of the poems written by the author. do note that the author often writes about dark themes such as the topic of gore, su1c1d3, s3/f h4rm and depressing topics, if you're experiencing or having these kinds of thoughts i suggest not to r...
