What am I but hollow?
This empty cage, this rusted prison
A phantom trapped within myself.
My bones are stripped bare,
And my soul is leaking,
Dripping away down the bars,
Wasting away, like a cigarette.
I am a criminal of my own identity,
Betraying myself at every turn.
Promises; Promises,
I've made myself a million promises,
And I have broken them, shattered them,
Torn myself up on the many remains.
And now,
Every, single, error haunts my soul,
Each one pressing me deeper down,
Pushing me harder, closer, to oblivion.
I trip under the weight,
Scrape my knees on rock bottom,
And point the blame at myself
This blood surely, I deserve to bleed.
Justification of one's actions,
By accusation of the mirror
Is the most dangerous act of self support.
I am crushed by the shame,
By the weight of my own mistakes,
My bones, my foundation, crumbling,
Like a disgraced version of Atlas.
I now live life, for that day,
Where all of my guilt fades like smoke,
And I am free, from my own blame.
Until then, I will tirelessly strive, fight, battle,
To be better,
Every moment,
Every day,
Melius esse; Melius esse.
- C.c
This is inspired by Van Gogh's Skull of a Skeleton with Burning Cigarette
