Never enough. Let them tell it and it’s a story of blood. Recognition is reserved for those deserving of love. We don’t meet the thresholdnecessary for trust.
Never enough. Let them tell it and it’s a story of blood. Recognition is reserved for those deserving of love. We don’t meet the thresholdnecessary for trust.
Our stressors may be different, but our emotions are shared. Interruptions scattered across the fabric of our existence with little time to prepare. Connections disrupted, some damaged beyond repair. Resiliency degenerates as humanity struggles to overcome the dispair.
Why do I proceed to make a fool out of myself with persistence? My success appears to be locked behind my potential, perhaps serving a life sentence. I have the tendency to convince myself that positive outcomes will arise at any instant. Maybe the results I was looking for would appear if I remained consistent? …
Sometimes I would rather end my own life than to continue living in it with you. Is this due to my lack of health, or is it a testament to how I’ve been living with you? The situation didn’t improve and was so horrendous that I would rather end it than use another day suffering …
Poetry 