Its 3 AM and I'm still lost in a deadlock of my dreams,
the Goals and the nightmares mixing to make a pale fear
of the dark that settles over my head and keeps me awake.
The smirk painted on my face is washed out if you look closely
you can see the cracks starting to form on my soul as I
struggle to reconcile who I was with who I am.
This inst a poem but I don't need rhythm right now just an outlet
because I'm so tired my filter is gone and so is my cutthroat mind
so all I can think is what the **** have I done.
Dec 8, 2018
Dec 8, 2018 at 4:08 AM UTC
Its 3 AM and I'm still lost in a deadlock of my dreams,
the Goals and the nightmares mixing to make a pale fear
of the dark that settles over my head and keeps me awake.
The smirk painted on my face is washed out if you look closely
you can see the cracks starting to form on my soul as I
struggle to reconcile who I was with who I am.
This inst a poem but I don't need rhythm right now just an outlet
because I'm so tired my filter is gone and so is my cutthroat mind
so all I can think is what the **** have I done.