Category : Poems

Sub Category : N/A

But I had to admit something to myself 
That nothing else felt real til I was dealing with him 
Those moments gave me resolve, if anything 
I found my fix in righteous indignation 
Of walking away in the opposite direction from him 
At least in that moment I had a direction.

So I think predisposedly, I found myself recreating the same picture over and over 
To drown my self and release into the plunge, just to re-emerge and hanker onto some sort of winning feeling 
Like a drug 
I knew no other way to feel real 
...Unaware, yet incapable...
I found myself pulling him closer for no reason other than to gain enough steam to run away from him, finally 
And everything else...
He was my indicator 
Beside the violence.
His depth was never ending
Meaning infinite in how he kept the wheels spinning 
After, the engine went cold. 
He was madness, no method 
He was chaos just for the sake of it 
But I to was a masochist