Ink Stains

If everything happens for a reason, then whoever is making the excuse "why not?" with me is a cruel fucker.

If we all have one life to make the fullest, why do I remember having two others before this hell hole?

If we all get buried back into the roots of earth when we die peacefully . Then I have been buried in rock and gravel.

All my life I have been called special, gifted even. They flatter me although they are speaking about my intelligence and not what lies beneath the surface. What lays deep within like a curse bound by my blood and secured within the beating chambers of my heart.