I am the shape of life. I suffer, I impact, I mean.
I am entropy.
I am the pursuit of emotion,
and I possess years of fights and arguments.
Trying to sense the world is difficult to handle,
Others interfere with my passionate seconds.
The rapid swings through mind are ample.
I am loneliness,
and I can alleviate this self when I
swing from virulently suicidal to madly euphoric.
Exhaust the stream of internal face.
I am language.
My appearance questions and feels cognizant of self,
learning to express a person the person expects to be.
I am life, inarguably: The course of souls.
I managed to move out of my house,
something I am still working on to-day.
I love without feeling scared or being subtle.
Diagnose a devastating pain and heartbreak.
I still miss her.
She isn't a sacrifice.
Moving and living, no longer having
someone I love.
I move not with her.
March with spit in my fatal city.
Losing and losing my shattering end.
Move back in with a hopeless succession.
I am love.
I am impact.
I grow my reach consumed by a panic.
I am sense.
I am the overwhelming, relieving, eventual world
I am
who I am.
Reject the anger, the uncertainties.
I am dead.
Refer to me as external validation of what is always.
I was all these lives.
I
I
I
I impact.
I impact.
I impact.
I leave.
I break.
