Do we really have a mission in this world?
Do we really change into something different everyday?
Or is everyone deliberately hiding more as each day passes?
Do I know you as I knew you 10 years ago?
I don't see it.
I am not bitter.
I am not lacking trust.
I am scared,
scared of myself.
Of the way my mind and body push to alter,
but there's something else
that creates an opposite and equal reaction
to never let me feel less.
I feel the same as I did 10 years ago when a stack of metal
fell over me and nearly broke my bones,
Only now, it's inside
and it doesn't go away if I'm careful.
It only hurts.
And nothing is a cure or a distraction.
I have been made this way
and this way I shall die.
Unmoved by external laws,
severely bruised by the daggers which were my own creation.
Oh how lovely it must be not to feel and not have it kill you/
