Do you ever fear who you are? Who you've been? Even who you will be? This fear creeps up every now and then, like being dragged back into the depths of a mask that no longer fits. An all encompassing desperation to escape the world I live in and who I am within it. Uncontrollable sorrow for opportunities missed and even one's taken. I mourn for a life I could've had or even one that I no longer exist in. To be free, because if this is how living feels like then I want no part of it. And as the world decays in front of my very eyes, I wish to rot with it.
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Short Poems
PoezjaI wouldn't really call them poems, they are just an expression of how I feel. They don't have a structure or lines, it's just whatever comes to me
