Is this a pattern?
The way it's always going to be?
Am I supposed to pick up the pieces when their worlds fall apart?
At what point will I ultimately fail? For fail I must.
That is my pattern.
I board hell bound trains hoping to divert their paths only to be left on a siding.
I'm not sure I want to play that game anymore.
I don't want to live in Dostoevsky's black visage.
I prefer the light.
Goth and depression bore me.
I yearn for the beauty and color in life.
I love the feeling of blood coursing through my veins.
I want pure love and to love pure.
Boop Boop Be Doop
2 comments:
hey man, dostoevsky ain't all black visage, right? in the end he loved the light, too -- hence alyosha in brothers k., myshkin in the idiot -- it's a really rough world, but we got options, right
"I yearn for the beauty and color in life.
I love the feeling of blood coursing through my veins.
I want pure love and to love pure."
You're not failing.
x
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