Wasted
They dont notice, the awkard silence.
The loud voice covering the scared body
So full of potiental, of choice of life
WASTED.
Dollface; I envy your trust in faith.
I seem to have misplaced my faith
Perhaps in you?
This poetic mood is wasted on me.
Nothing worthy to say to the gods.
I am the comfortmist.
To scared
To stressed
To pitifull.
This brain plays the moving music
To loud,
To fast,
To long.
I just want worthy silence.
A chance to catch my breath
A chance to change.
Worthy, unworthy each being dictatored points.
Which I feel I still dont know.
Which I need is most unclear.
Words wasted on this empty page
Wkords thrown in the bin after a hard day of lost potiental.
Not even the words of the gods will save me.
Myself; the enemy.
That I dont understand.
Just that.