Selfish. A word long absent from my vocabulary. A word long abandoned for the greater good. A word I dare not speak, for the bitterness that escapes my lips. It’s funny how certain things fall together, yet the moments are so far out of sync. For dreams that can be seen, only fade to dust, through the sheer movement of time.
Bitterness, the part of me the escapes the most. A code, a marker left behind by my forefathers. A part of myself that plants the weeds I wish I could pull up. But my tears are all but dry. For the stoic I had become to survive made damn so of that. Yet I scribble down words, I often wonder if I really mean. For the joy of what was once life, is now all out of my grasp.
Apprehension keeps everything out of reach. It paralyzes the words that should have been said. Freezes the moments I should have taken. Turning everything to servitude in an attempt to be worthy. Only to disappoint time and again the god I serve, acceptance and worthiness. Still that word, that word selfish; I dream but know I’ll never see. Draws nothing but poison from my veins.
Bitterness, the part of me the escapes the most. A code, a marker left behind by my forefathers. A part of myself that plants the weeds I wish I could pull up. But my tears are all but dry. For the stoic I had become to survive made damn so of that. Yet I scribble down words, I often wonder if I really mean. For the joy of what was once life, is now all out of my grasp.
Apprehension keeps everything out of reach. It paralyzes the words that should have been said. Freezes the moments I should have taken. Turning everything to servitude in an attempt to be worthy. Only to disappoint time and again the god I serve, acceptance and worthiness. Still that word, that word selfish; I dream but know I’ll never see. Draws nothing but poison from my veins.
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