a 16-yr old writer; still studying.
I mesmerize the times
when I needed to be WHOLE
when there's NO reason to breathe in
when I had no one to use my senses with
when all I wanted was to exist
It was just NOW
when I felt such sweet pain
when I bewailed, cried out the blindness of others
when chance abducted my social instincts
Just a continuum
of the petty, childish fear to weigh less than others
of the swollen heart which sought for temporary treatment
of that skepticism seeking forth my significance
of the dreadful past while I kept lonely in clandestine
Why can't I escape this restless dream?
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