willingness to hold on
consequently, a presence enters like a marathon
dubious start, dubious end
dubious to end it?
i am trying to hold on to grope
i am trying to escape within my own shadows
i am trying to run towards the darks i have
but am i really trying?
or i am already starting to drown
drown.. being drown
proffering deja’vu
i hate the idea inside the clandestine jail of letters inside my mind
i hate how my heart is starting to wrench with the films i made inside my head
i hate how to feel wreck
just because i am used to imprison myself towards the chaos doesn’t mean i desire it.
do i really love lingering towards the war or i am just used to live with it?
shesshy 