I became weak from lack of exposure.
It's not killing me now, I found closure.
A coffee stained T-shirt, I'm empty inside.
I found smoke in my lungs, but no fire in my heart.
There are things to be found that I cannot find.
I wonder frantically, but where do I start?
I wish I could see, though I must be blind
to all that is divine.
What I want eludes me.
Confusion constricts and binds me like Ivy.
The twisted vines,
they confine and declined
all my descending tries and tire
my motivation to free my mind.
To discover the secrets of being aptly content.
To discover what was aptly meant
and not to resent
yesterday, or all the tomorrows that are subsequent.
I ignore all the lies as they are insolent,
And now for my future, I shall admit all my sins and repent.