I write these thoughts to clear my mind from the piles of blunt ended metaphorical clutter that may, or may not have cadence.
Their long winded flow,
Re-enacting my endless ability to be stuck inside myself without realizing I haven't even inhaled before saying the next thing.
I won't stare at the shelves upon shelves of books that I haven't even read,
An analogy to express my repressed memories and goals that have gone unfinished,
Because my past is filled with garbage that needs to be exposed, and disposed,
And I feel forced to take a shower just to wash all of my depression away.
I know I need to sit in my feelings,
Instead of telling myself that I live in trash,
And It's really not okay if I do feel sad,
And being a robot is annoying but its the only thing I know,
Cause old habits die hard,
And I can't, or frankly won't change that.
I really am trying to be a better me.