Moments. I'm built up by moments. They surround me, shape me, create and recreate who I've become. A rainy day. The trip. One class. Many hours badly spent. But these don't make it into the frame.

Your blame. The rage. My guilt. These are the intances that outline my life. Micro moments. You see, tiny ones that flee. They flash before I can fully understand or become aware of their existence. On their own they stand as harmless, ineffective, deficient. Their accumulation is what creates the pain. They made me. I allowed them to be fleeting to deflect the hurt they flashed because I didn't want to bother. It was easier to let them pile up. But now they are clear, readable, traceable and they've lead me here to this moment, to that comma and this period. Moments that raised my walls and alarmed my defences.

So many little moments that build up the rage.

People have the capability of changing you.
Of reinventing who you are, thought you were or wished to be.
A noble, caring person can shift to the most obscured path because of someone else. He can isolate you, even from yourself, make you create frontiers. Separate the real you from the version you've created for protection. They help build your demons and perfect your fears.
She takes your doubts and transforms them into shame.
A person can grab your hopes and smear it all over the place, unknowing that your heart shatters along the way.
Perhaps they have a hint that you are suffering but they keep tearing you down anyway. You see, many times you let that happen.
You let them beat you to exhaustion. You remain still. It's like someone is beating you up hit after hit, nonstop, yet you're untied.
You could fight back and at least attempt to defend yourself but
instead you let them punish you. You let the he. And her. And they.
Destroy the you. That YOU that you've worked so hard to come to grasps to, I simply see vanishing away, because of them.

To the one that might read this line,
I confess I don’t know this rhyme.
Will I ever stop?
Will this verse just drop?
I won’t write this line to be nine.

I want to be selfish for once, to get drunk from my needs
and soak on my wants. To get high from My Love and
wrapped up on my life.

I want to be greedy at last, to drown on self love and
asphyxiate on my laughs. To be exhausted from my
joys and depleted from good vibes.

I want to be narrow minded tonight, to feel voiceless
from speaking up and drained for being who I am.

I need to be ego centered and obliterate all my flaws,
to eliminate all the stares and feel I'm above them all.
It's time to be selfish and begin to live for me, they all
have their lives on play while mine's stuck on repeat.

A wall made of bricks, a field they call Hopes,
the structure between certainty and distance goals.

Ms. Dawn and Sir Dim see one way to get across,
climb over the obstacle at any possible cost.

All attach to the wall and want to rise up as well,
the common mindset is: keep moving people don't dwell.

Seeing all the commotion one person stares at the ground,
planning to dig a hole to discover the unforeseen town.

At the sight of the differ path the digger took on his own
all started to direct to him with a superiority tone.

The man had but one answer to the judgement of them all:
why would I climb a wall when I can just dig a hole?

You keep telling yourself that it's ok,                
that there's nothing wrong but you            
sound like a whisper and they sound               
like a shout.

I want to sail away from my life
this life that's yours, you see the
wild in the rain that falls. She, he,
we,us, it, him, her...