Often I am surprised at the things I do.
To act so cold knowing it's not the truth.
Coloring between the lines begging to break loose.
To do what has to been done when no one else
has a clue.
It's a hard life to live to do what has, to want and not have, to fear yourself and to regret your past.
I didn't notice at first when it started.
Like the choice wasn't mine it was imparted.
I hoped it was nonsense, but my devotion is constant trying to atone for the wrongs during my uncalmness. You'd see it as raw, but in fact; my morals remain intact.
I do this perhaps, I seek forgiveness for by acts of cruel collapse.
I hate to look back on those awful days such ominous ways looking through eyes of the past my future looks grave.