Thou perch myself, leer myself in the mirror.
contemplation, not always I appreciate what my being
I force myself to be benign despite the bitterness harvesting in me, nurturing by the extrinsic force.
Not always I have the valor to stoush my inner-demon.
perchance, it is someone else I am gazing at in the mirror.
the scars aren’t concealed, they’re there to be seen.
perhaps, people have gone purblind or were my scars irrelevant.
I am neither here nor there, I am everywhere but nowhere, I am lost in the epiphany.
will-he-nill-he, I shall thole myself
rival, seek to emulate askew facade with leaden steps, I assimilate being resilient.
The world at large, sham-and-jam us with the erroneous archetype of grandeur.
For the masses, beauty falls into the mold of slender limbs, growling stomach, insipid face, shallow heart.
for them. thee struggle to furnish the hollow-heart with callous and hostility
Improvising spurious smile that mimics pantomime.
they pose gaiety, however, the closer one gets the more conspicuous it gets to puzzle me solve.
the melancholia to attain paradoxical happiness.
oh lord, I shall gladly trade my soul to procure nirvana.
a place of serenity where there’s no desire, envy, spite where my spirit is free of yearning and rapacious state where my soul isn’t reft between weltschmerz, where I shall accept the way I am, the way I belong to be.
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