Intoxicated by our brain's erupting poison is all we are. Thick clouds swirling like the elixir of corruptive malignancy, governing our every move, regulating them from past to future while winding through our dying souls.
Yet we obey, full aware that this isn't our choice of action. Keeping our strengths darkened and exposing our weaknesses so that we are vulnerable to the naked eye. Why do we do this, you ask? Is that reflection in the mirror reality or hope of acceptance? Consumed by our accessibility to judgment, we have no choice to let the criticism sink into our already abundant thoughts.
In what way possible is someone else's opinion on you matter so much while when you were a child, no one could outshine you, even if they did, you didn't notice? Society's attempting conjecture is incomplete and leaving us on the edge of the seat, armed and ready to attack its words.
Who are you to compare your own beauty to one's self?
It is absolutely possessive to attempt to defeat yourself at your own race.
I am a criminal, vandalizing myself.
Kaput and wearied by my own self-loathing and desperation to become the astray puzzle piece that's lost and forgotten. In the midst, puzzle lay unfinished, the constructor thinking it was a waste of time.
Comme il faut is what is expected nevertheless that is not whatsoever what is true.
riconoscere la colpa tua is what echoes through our mind constantly with every beat of our worn-down heart.
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Special thanks to my beautiful editor and her team😉, hope you enjoyed the first chapter. <3
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Spots in my Vision (poetry novel)
Teen FictionReality- the resemblance of being real. You see, not even the word itself knows what's actual and what's fabricated. For now in our influentially intoxicated, inefficient way of living, we aren't able to know the difference between the two...
