Everything is in chaos, but lasting us
A split second, you blink your eyes
Take a breath
Credulous, yet benevolent
Mind chasing
Awaiting new thoughts, like meteors
To explode across your cerebrum
Feelings in eardrums
From the sounds around you
Constant axon arousal
Enticingly guides you
On the path to feel
Alive
With an adrenaline skeleton
Complex, trying to fit in
But really, "who are you?"
Because sometimes thoughts succumb
Beyond your grasp, and they numb the way you feel
And in those moments, we define our ideals
Almost
Soley based on the bad things
Instead of realizing
We should not define ourselves for the chaos and chatter we internally ramble on with
About half of us
Cant mold an identity anyway
Cause we don't understand
The word is not meant to be
What it's said to be
Identity's definition
Is not definite
You see
It's more like a clumsy representation
Of what you want to be
Since you are ever changing
With the vibrations of thought
Think of identity being more associated with how you adapt
To everything thrown your way
What defines you is how you display yourself
When chaos itself
Comes into your life
Everyone has strife, cause life is not easy
Just don't think you're alone
Or have a mental disease
Thoughts come in and out of our lives constantly, and sometimes we completely change our perception of ourselves if we think of something we believe is unmoral or not right.
For the most part, we cannot always control what our brain may throw at us. But what we can do is learn how to adapt to whatever is thrown at us, instead of defining or questioning ourselves in those moment indefinitely.