Heyhihello

[dull boy]

I know my anger's displaced. But that's what happens when pain is restrained. It doesn't fade, it evades and invades til the hate's in your veins and you can't seem to face where it came from. Confusion consumes him. Has clarity sparingly. Became used to illusion. Married to bury things he couldn't otherwise stuff inside. His families a lie, but his admittance is his real issues. His sanity's alright but he's still sick, too. He feels misused. Vanity and pride fills his views on how to handle things he finds in this fantasy called life. Self awareness apparent. He's a zombie with a conscience. A body in the audience of his own hell. Narrates and stars in his own narrative. It's hard being this transparent and involved with what carries us through harm. Sometimes he barely wants to start. Fucked up, 'cause he knows he could wear these lovely parts and tear these fucks apart, but the care just wasn't starved. Too aware. Too dumb. So smart.