Hours That Follow, A Poem Draft From Book #3

There’s something about the midnight hour, I can’t understand how it works, or if it calms my soul enough to heal my battle wounds.

Either way, it builds my core, to the point of nausea. You push yourself to the edge and somehow recover, just to fall back on your word again.

It’s a continuous cycle, the same routine of thought, as time leads you on a journey.

You can either hide in denial, or confront your darkest personality traits in depth.

To cut ties with fear of abandonment, a need for approval; Am I losing touch with reality or am I too aware of my own weaknesses and destructive mindset?

It takes a lot to admit defeat, and admit that you’re a broken individual.

So for the time being, love your fellow entities that surround the halls of your mind. For the present hour, cherish the hours that follow.

Be fearless, love the obstacles that test you. Kill the fear that haunts your path.

Free the mind, cure the anxiety of not knowing what’s going to happen next.

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