The trauma has pierced right through me.
All I ever wanted was love. Being held with love. Be seen.
Inhale the same air, breath through consciousness.
Laugh, be scared, never be judged. Never be afraid to be myself.
But I find that there are not enough corners to hide.
That everything I say will somehow be held against me.
Trust no one.
This life is a battlefield. And I wonder. I wonder if there's still life.
Meaning.
Too many mistakes and so much time to figure the pain we left behind.
I only saw mine. 'Cause I was desperate to find the next best thing. The comfort.
With a price
And just an illusion.
Please bring flower wreaths
I'll smash them with my dirty legs
My anger stake might be the definition of a new zen
