WHY AM I BITTER ?

    I am trying to become an antisocial animal. The half-assed care I find from those I give my affections to are ones that I wish never blew my way with the wind. My passion always stays suspended so maybe I should be the one to float in its swimming pool filled with granulated sugar. Or maybe a sinkhole effect will welcome me in and get all the way into my lungs. Which is alright still since I willingly walked into this swamp I carefully curated.  The belief that emotions makes one closer to others is dangerous since it can lead blind ones in territories lethal to them. If one were to get lost within their affections they would truly understand how there is no way out of the cave of our minds. Trying to get close only shuts one out all alone within their loneliness. Only friends now are the left and the right side of the brain. 

    I get it. I get the concept. I just can’t really understand. I can’t really relate. 

    So there is an inside world and an outside world but not really. So i believe that and that becomes my real. Squinting my eyes whenever I see a mirror. There really isn’t much separating us then the dust suspended in thin air. 

    So you kiss me and kiss someone else too and you care about us both. So i believe that and that becomes my real. But i can’t really. Because when i see the marks of someone on your neck I get jealous and nauseous. My grip tightens and I am aware of it. Thats why i bleed my own hands within that steel grip. One that you hold loose. My claws in my skin while my skin crawls. I guess thats where its meant to be. I now can see we really are not one of kin.



    Training wheels off it is time for finding balance. A picture is worth a thousand words and the one that you plastered on your wall brought me off balance again. I strap my feet on the ground to not be knocked down but gosh darn those arms I want to be held by. Don’t even have to try just by being there you cause a reaction out of me. 

    There are people out there who are adrenaline junkies, chasing storms across the country to try and see how destructive nature can be. They tell stories of how that is where peak of beauty resides; the moment the storm spirals to kiss the ground. Inside a car shielded from the rain going as fast as four whole horses. The amount of metal on it classifies the vehicle as a tank that I managed to fill up with marmalade to the brim. Im going to end up looking like a bug stuck in resin trees produce; caramelized within my fast armor that will inevitably get struck by lightning. 

    God themselves strikes me since I happen to stick out with my thorns that bend all the way around me next to those who decide to keep all that is sharp within them. Personal problem with my existence but since I happen to have no control I just let it happen, take it as it is. Honor the time spent on a project whether it be sentient or not. It is coincidences stacked on top of each other to create an uncomfortable bed with small notes of paper in every new level. Curling around the hard parts of the comforter to find comfort in hostile situations. 

    Get that ugly grin off that deities face. Just because they are holier then me they believe I could be mocked. But I will fight these so called strong creatures one by one since I happen to know one is never greater then the other in our space of great equality between matter. It is only what matters the most to the one who gets to see what happens outside them. I will fight them and I will win because I carry the willpower of four whole humans. No barriers other then the ones I create. Which happens to be a tall wall between me and your arms. I fall down because your grip is loose within those strong looking limbs. So my body creates bruises out of situations you never meant to cause. It was just a byproduct of the lack of stamina. When it comes to investing it in me who would like to put all I have in-front of you but knows that it is a horrible Idea since it would only drain me out to supply a villages worth of water to keep the gardens alive. I pray for a dream to be stuck in because the best I can do is to try. Or maybe the best approach would be to beg of you to please come in-front of me and from the deepest part of your soul; lie.