shots for me burning in the chest from souls regret, pains secret little pleasure whispers out the frame of my panting chest , breathe breathe it won’t got away days died long ago time only exists in its dreams sick twisted fantasies with no intentions optimistic fears play repeat every second lost left right back on the right side of missing regrets where could have they been left, brain failure incompatible processing of emotions now I’m free finally got a break from sober yet still not enough to lift me from transgressions teasing the adolescent mind set of a little boy hoping to soon be a man just unable to man-handle his fate with steady hands, shaking the road to a dreary future that won’t occur if held down by murder of this lonely sub-conscious , everywhere like nomads but within a globe watch it fall out the hands of this ungrateful man, shattering that nightmare once a goal in happy dreams seem like for never after every after math never happened
happen yet I go back in blank then white bland boring out flows emptiness,
though color seems so alluring seems I'm exempt from this,
lifestyle wanted but not totally understood,
so close to comprehension but so lost in the woods,
of my demise created by ambition,
soon becoming the persona i so tried to ignore,
while neglected becoming part of my character more more,
sore from bewilderment hung-over by depression,
drinking the answers to my own question,
away goes my sanity goodbye cruel world,
hello reality where have you been girl,
my disposition grows like hatred,
my joy gains a split personality,
yet my fear is naked,
vengeance is vacant like an ally,
and anxiety lively like a rally,
so where is my median my max is to small,
my minimum engrossed and not up to par,
far goes again the understanding,
nearer comes a foreseen reprimanding,
and everyone thought i would have my hand in,
but even i surprised of sinking sand,
end,
i think its over,
i see nothing,
i feel sober,
its white again what a boring color,
or is it boring because I'm empty no color,
and blandly alive so dead to others,
color alive but not in me,