They label this pessimism. Call me selfish. I'm both of those things but please, add the lip stain. Let's not forget the judgmental, hypocrite, reneger, unworthy, blasphemy characteristics of me. I'm emotionally unstable, overloaded with thoughts.Run by my heart, and you could say some what street-smart. See I learned from the stress, the heartaches, the bills left unpaid. I picked up the cards dealt , never paying them any mind, all the while completely unaware what they would leave behind. I call this myself, a broken, ambitious *******. I find comfort here, amongst my demons pride. I find comfort in the sorrow of being alone, completely addicted to the negative, low life, hard to reach center, of MY soul. I hesitate to look to the left or to the right, constantly keeping my eye from the light. A whirlpool of hate, anger and black, this list could go on, this list of my mind, this list of me, of what I lack. See I stand here today with this etched into my heart, but somehow some where, there's always a need to restart. I can't seem to hold onto it when I find it, I can't seem to take root in the nourishment, into the healthy soil. I know it's there, if I could just take hold. My dear, I do fear, this will be a fight until I'm old.