See how storms come, destroy and pass so easily forgotten
You are so strong in too many ways to count and this you know-- and above all else you must believe your unknown strengths hold so much more power,
Your cries are burying bodies although you are too broken-hearted at the time to notice;
Life's a mess of obvious' and symbols and your life holds
So much power in the form of realising what direction you choose to take,
And by now you surely know hell is not a place it's but a season
And by now your paintings have been stored aswell as burnt and you saw how little the difference left you
Besides your face being left ashy.
I never meant you any harm but you rightfully act like a tragic melodrama-maiden as you're bound to
And I leave it alone as I should
I grew tired growing up just to die
Young in battle day after day.
What caricature image must I be in your words
And look like in your head
For you to've justified every bad decision made?
I used to wonder now I see it more
As a pitty too frail so that it's put to the back of my mind, I lived with so many embodiments
of sadness and I barely had a good placement
To even start out with, did I? Still, I'll carry a smile
As prominent as starven bones when
I hear my name called and know you're
Away from my side forever after.
1 out of a hundred 1/4
Title from trad scots ballad Young, but daily growing.
It's also a sin to go out on a diary entry trilogy don't u know.
Bitterness/Optimising