I hate this type of cry.

All I do is try.

Every good deed-

Inevitably never comes back to me.

I suffocate in the person I long to be.


You see;

It’s significantly complicated.

My confidence has officially been deflated.

It seems as though the more I try,

It’s a silent cry.

I suffocate in my own good-bye.


I feel like I’m drowning.

I’ve come to realize I excel in the art of frowning.

The more I fake smiling.

I suffocate in my own culpability.


It’s like I’m underwater.

Excluded laughter, I’m just a floating particle of matter;

I don’t matter.

I’ve become so distant.

The blurring lines are no longer innocent.

I think I’m at the top when it becomes clear as though,

I suffocate in my own sorrow.



I feel like I’m drowning.

When underwater I’m accompanied,

But it’s no doubt I’m the only one struggling to breathe.

For I am unable to conceive;

How much of a burning desire I have to leave:

The bottom.

I am suffocating.


My intentions have always been good.

My enemy is a hood.

For it covers me and constantly overlooks.

It’s become a burden I cannot disregard.

Perhaps it is me?

It’s become more apparent that my heart;

Is only a fraction of what it used to be.

I suffocate in myself, you see.

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