It’s a maze up there and I often get lost, too anxious to care. So, I built up walls to block the paths that lead to doors, it hides my past and many more.
I wish there was a map to help me get out of my own mind But I realized I built these paths to get lost and for no one to find… me. I chose to be a settler and now I regret the maze that I made— I now live in to suffer.
Running through the morning sun we fall in line, ready to run as the gates open they come undone it’s every man for himself even when you cry for help, until you’re the only one left. No one to save you from the chaos that you started in your mind— you lost. By your own doing, the game was tossed and what did it cost? The people you loved the most.
The monsters under our beds are the harsh truths about the world, lurking in the silence while we’re unaware of their presence. Until the night comes and they enter our innocent minds, infesting it with wisdom that is better off not knowing.
I wrote a bunch of poetry back in 2017, it was all over the place. So, I finally retrieved it from my old broken laptop and some were from my old journal pages that I may have forgotten about.