It starts with a simple trigger, and it ends with an emotional cry of defeat. A passive-aggressive mechanism mastered from the years and pieces of you broken off like you’re society’s doll, robotic to emotion and numb from the chemical imbalance of one’s mind.
What you saw in movies, it became your illusion, the safety blanket you never had as a child, but eventually, the rose-colored lens faded, and you saw the world in all the disgusting hues of reality. Blue became associated with sadness & your lover’s eyes, red became nothing but a reminder of the blood you lost, and the love that decayed along with it.
I wish life was like it seemed when childhood nightmares were only the majority of life’s problems, you could breathe oxygen without being constantly clouded by the loss of your beloved, oh how tragic it felt at the time, but as time goes, you start to feel the hatred building like the blocks you had as a kid, ain’t it funny how tables can twist and turn?
my words are perhaps not as beautiful
or maybe not as well-put
as other people’s nor as flowing through your soul
as the next one you’ll see
but to me, it’s all down to being true
to your nature regardless.
not every piece will be a masterpiece,
or have a great impact and so forth
but ironically enough: that’s what
helps you grow as a person.
like flowers, we need to
nurture our minds
before they can bloom
no great was created overnight,
but we can all dream.