Do you ever feel so consumed
in your own thoughts
That there's no logical reason as to why
you pick through every insecurity
as if it were an obscurity of self hate
Or why you trace over the skin on your wrists
and feel all of the things that
can no longer be seen
But will always be remembered
Because every tribulation was a disaster in your mind and every revelation was a manifestation of confusion and every time you came to the conclusion that
when asked "what's wrong?"
you could only find the power to reply with
"what's right?"