My pain is my pain
It cannot be overtaken
And though your words suggest
That it has no merit
I cannot rid myself
Of this ennui.
My openings are encumbered
And even in speaking
I am not saved.
It is inevitable that I am broken,
Nothing else makes sense.
–
As a child I was content
To be others, to pretend
As an adult I am unable
To maintain such pretenses.
I keep running into myself
Within others and it is she
That rejects me whilst
They pass unknowingly
mindlovemisery 