Losing four living creatures
To not just death
But to toxicity, society
And what’s supposedly a structure of support, a community.
A fresh new start
Yet things continue to self destruct and vanish
Like the leaves that flow along by the current of the wind that blew
Can you picture yourself
Sitting outside on the coldest of days
Feeling the chill and raindrops on your skin
But your eyes burn with drops of hot tears that fall down your ice cheeks
Leaving a trail of wetness that turns ice when the wind howls carrying it’s air
Expressing isn’t easy but when you sit
And all you can do is feel, it becomes vulnerability and defeat
Leaving you wounded before shot
Or perhaps as if hurt before scraped.
For one, I know it’s called ideally growth and healing
A form of progression
But it’s sort of feels like a regression.
Instead of a stepping stone, it’s a step back.
As if a stool can compare to the heights that a ladder can take you
There’s a difference inbetween
A sum of emptiness and void
Which you can’t step ahead from because there’s nothing to take you further
Experiencing a different kind of disappointment
When you try and try
Live by your best morals
And yet, after succession
It seems as if reality appears to currently become an opposition
To what you’ve foolishly imagined to be something
That defines the very word of prosperity
None have any answers to the hasty unfortunes that come of our lives
But in the moment all I know
Is that there’s no good string of harmony or something of opulence
It’s only misery, pain and uncertainty
A million questions mostly around the direct thought of why or how
Absolutely no trace of any positivity
Is to live to suffer?
How many times do we have to fall in order to finally stand strong
I wonder if out there somewhere in the world
If there’s another soul whom reflects these same thoughts
Because all I can see this right now, is a tragedy.