solitude is hard
makes me take all the bad decisions
solitude makes me mad
reminds me of all my lesions
that sense of belonging
to nothing but a shrine
that slaps my face in the longing
of something that will outshine,
the faces around me
that keep looking-alike
As if the ghosts inside them were changing bodies
leaving me to a skin where only I can die
Or hide, from the bad,
from all the reasons
from all the lies
iv’e been told a every season