Your disdain
permeates
through my veins
as I attempt to refrain
from sinking to your low.
Never knowing
when I'll be exposed
to that genetic predisposition
of insanity.
My feet paralyzed
by what could be,
so much so
that I can't see
the future in front of me.
I look to the horizon
and the sun,
but they're just reminders
of my limitations.
Like a bullet from a gun;
predestined to destroy something
before I lose my purpose.
How can I avoid this?
When half of me
is mostly you
it's hard to find the words to
convince myself
that I'm something new.