married to fate, chained to the future
my wounds won't heal, not even with sutures
the roulette ball rolls; who knows where it'll land?
will i know to take hold when you outstretch your hand?
each day my doubts plague me, gnaw at my soul
and sometimes i wonder if this is why i thrive in the cold
what prompts us to write, to shove words out in the open?
who can look into our eyes and know that we're broken?
the pen is a blade; my heart is a trigger
this place is a maze; my blood clumps thicker
three years ago, i thought i would be different,
thought i'd be bigger, or less worried about insignificance
i thought the world would turn on its' axis boldly,
and that i wouldn't crave days where i want someone to hold me
three years ago, i wonder if my sails had a stronger direction
and once upon a time - i swear - i had more connections
fear still finds me,
a panther stalking its' foolish prey,
and time still blinds me
with how quickly it ticks away
is success just a feeling? is it only a name?
is it even a level, a possibility in this game?
is passion a feeling, or just a thirst for fame?
is home a person, a place, or an imaginary plane?
my mind still haunts me, with its' rattling doors,
and sometimes my demons whisper that i'm doomed to bore
questions ignite my being, setting me ablaze
as i wonder if i will ever be ready for the adulting daze