There's a fear I can't shake.
It keeps boiling,
I can't shake it.

It's petrifying the way it takes my bones
And travels my veins.
It's petrifying me.

I don't know whether I try to control it,
Or just assume it as my own device.
'Cause either way it possesses me,
And demands my being.

I'm left shaking
And petrifying in doubts,
I'll never be good enough.

A whisper echoes
In the purest parts of my heart,
And it doesn't still.

What are the things that you want?
*What are the things that you dream?

I'm a left and I am deaf.

A thousand tears of broken words whispered in the silence of my solitude.
A broken glass reflecting the perfect reflection of my heart.
A stolen soul in exchanged of numbness mornings and empty bodies.
A beating heart on a dead soul. The longing of feelings that never left.
A hand on a floor against the demons in my head.
A miserable excuse for a reasonable action. The feeling so strong in a mess of a world.
A crying for help in a hopeless land.

I'm a left and I am deaf.

I’m a cliché.
I’m a walking broken piece of glass,
insisting my glimmer is different
than all of the other fissures of society.
I seem to think there is something romantic
about living like I hate myself.
I am not only comfortable with being unhealthy,
I welcome it with kisses and perfume.