which inflexible mode of truth was born from the smoke and mirrors that raised me from the cradle.
I want to say goodbye to the irrational mind games jumping me to conclusions that are so disturbing it physically hurts my heart
Can you point them out to me so I can bury them in the backyard with yesterday’s disappointments that I can’t seem to shake?
I’m tired of constant arguments with the thoughts strumming in my head. They seem to think I’m made of steel when I know I was forged from cotton fields of hard labor and little love.
I wish I knew how to stand on my own two feet without feeling the messed up vibrations that shake me to the core. Another day brings me closer to the brink but the ledge moves farther away with each sunrise.