dust untouched

Deteriorating

Day by day I feel myself getting worse

I have become star-crossed with hope

Every striking hour, I want it to be my last

The dirt in my heavy chest can't be cleaned with soap

Bring on the words made of daggers, the pain I've learned to cope

Is this really what I'm destined to become?

A deteriorating building, crumbling as my core shakes

I feel my smile crying, as the foundation breaks

Trying to stay alive sometimes feels like a mistake

Whereas my only thought now is should I still learn to survive

Or should I let myself fly as my hand waves goodbye?