Emotions escape from my lips that are awkward, leaving a path of misguided words of sorrow. With every word like it’s own jail cell awaiting captor its partner. My passionate rhymes of affection are what hurt my inner being, and I think it is impossible to waste my words on optimistic guilt.
What is happening?
My head running like a more used engine, smoky excerpts cloud my conscience as I fight a never ending battle of hormonal loathing. Abandoned with the never ending sentence of estrogen, I walk this 1 week battle alone. The world around me becomes blackened without ending annoyance, individuals are no longer in my sight, but are replaced with concealed enemies. Pills become my pain saver in the extremities of injustice, my grief is my sole companion and my despair overwhelms my activities, talking louder than my unforgiving words. Lashing out on those whom I love at a unsolved crime of passion.
My activities are a complete enigma, even to my own desire of configuration. I torture myself with each dwelling thought created in my own nation delusion. Trapped in a prison of endless awaking and all I need to do is sleep my days off. My boyfriend who’s a victim of my hope moves, stands by my side-by-side. His devotion to my weight is something which comes from true compassion for my never ending sobs. He’s truly a courageous man, a solider taking on a never ending war of my transgressions.
What to do?
Without understanding of my critical psychological condition, he triumphs through with blinding grace. The toughest part to my query, is locating the fiction through facts. Separating my logical emotions in my haunting past and finding the great divide. My past haunts my interpretation of others activities, hardened visions of lovers beyond brand my new love for undeserved failure. I lash out with misguided conclusions, words become my slaves, for I need to take possession of my eluding reflections.
I use friendly fire as my alibi free of discount for others perishing souls, my hit list of apologies becomes overpowering, once I’m done fighting this conflict of bloody intrusions, I will come face to face with my own harsh conclusions of my weekly long casualties.