I have to say what’s on my mind,
mostly it’s just commonsense.
My bitterness constructed me,
I know, its made me second guess
all the things, people, aspects
of productivity that I lacked before.
I don’t want to believe it’s me,
I know it’s not you.
The problem is lost within,
bound within the hardback cover
of an existential book of prosperity.
Those pages, words, comparisons;
all lost within a smoldering ember,
consuming all hope given.
When I say what’s on my mind,
its true, to me, whether or not to you;
the importance isn’t grave,
yet it’s the greatest symbolization
of my ever-determined being.
It’s my strength, my sanity; just me.
Not coherent to you, exactly,
my thoughts are constricted to me,
contorting my view point of
the matters in question.
Despite, thoughts flow like an eternal river,
the current washing away the past,
an erosion to memories, and things
I do not wish to remember.