Was i born with a gift,
Or cursed with a blessing,
Here in locked parts of my memory,
Life constantly just contradicts,
My own words have become controlling,
I sit,
I write and write,
Which chapter am i on,
Which words should i choose to write,
How does someone,
Explain the complexities of their own mind,
After every paragraph,
I turn the page,
For what,
These lines are my immoral cage,
I write and write,
I don't know the meaning of better days,
Everything seems so faint,
So far away,
There is no way to properly express my pain,
Reckless and unrelenting,
I sit in silence,
​I write and write,
Where do i belong,
There is no definition in my life,
So i write and write,
Just adding another meaningless chapter,
One word at a time,
I'm stuck between an ocean of endless and capturing lines.