my creativity died with me
like a lamb at the slaughter
cutthroat, warm thick blood running
i sacrificed it for normalcy
for fear of rejection or for anxiety's sake
i dont know
but now i am but a shell
of the full person i once used to be
every ounce of difference drained
hr.
sometimes i wonder who i would've become if i hadn't washed over everything i once was in order to not fear judgment. but at least im not as anxiety-ridden as i once was, right?
