and not in a clawing flesh, body convulsing, banging headboard kind of way
that kind of ****** I can rock the **** out of.
No I am more the twisted mess of forced misconception enlightened by time innocence forgot forced into a life guided by trust in the lies truth told
Yeah, it's the end of life as I know it that's the kind of ****** I am
I knew joy it was based on trust in what was true
I knew love it was built on that same foundation
So yes, I am ****** this mess of **** crumbling to pebbles while blinding me in the dust of my own ignorance is anything but blissful
and all I hear are the cries of beautiful dying not that dying is beautiful, though it can be but of the death of beautiful things of things I found implicitly lovely the painful dying of all I believed was good
I am so ****** sideways
protected by others I can no longer say for certain who I am or who I believe myself to be
****** hard and unrecognizable ***** into truth by the kindness of others
No more questions because I am ****** that way too no one wants to hear their old news and ***** laundry
I knew love once now all I love, I question reliving my choices in reasons why trying to piece together my life had I always known trying to define how I love by my own definitions and not by what I knew love to be because that love never existed only in my ******, shattered memory
So, hey guess what I used to love you now it's tainted with yesterday's **** streaks