My shoulders sit crooked, laden with guilt...

How can i strive to study such in human minds,

Yet refuse to come to terms with my own

Surfacing inclinations?

My mind is like a trial of love, lust, and unfortunate revelations,

Leading to underground rebellions

Buried deep within my heart. 

And i feel that I'll age early if i continue down this path,

I could put pen to paper,

But a person i hate is screaming back.

I question who i have become.

Drowning in my second hand morals...

My parents,

My friends,

Echoed in my head,

Swaying my decisions,

bringing discomfort to my bed.

I'm split between two personalities:

One in which i please everyone,

And another in which i repel everyone.

I feel cursed with copious worries 

And crippling fears of death,

Yet gifted with invincibility,

Because i haven't died yet.

I stare at my phone knowing...

They will come quickly to my aid.

But I shiver...

And let it fall from my hands.

I'm the hero in this story ,

I don't need to be saved... 





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