For so long I have focused on the primary concern of bettering myself. Over and over I have attempted to improve both my state of mind and appearance to conclusively fail, resulting in detrimental effects to my self-esteem and sense of hope. Through trial and error, I have simply damaged myself; by proving that I am incapable of overcoming the intangible obstacles that I have for so long faced. I must face the reality that is my unsparing vulnerability.
I am dependent; I am weak. I find no comfort through seeking treatment for that which cannot be treated. There is no relief through the indulgence of my arsenal of medication. At best, I am numb; I am the scar tissue in which nerve cells cannot reside. At my worst, I am destructive; I skim the surface of an exposed powder keg with a lit match just to see whether or not it will blow. I suppose you could say I have a fixation towards Russian Roulette.
And so I have succumbed to my flaws and given in to my demons; I am consumed with such potent apathy as I wait for my insecurities to devour me. There is barbed wire embedded beneath my skin and the more I try to remove it, the more damage it does. It is far less painful to give in rather than to fight an undeniable enemy. And for what would I go through such trouble? To continue an internal battle that will forever burden me? No. Call it cowardly, but I refuse to fight the tide; I would much rather float. And if I happen to sink to the very bottom of the sea, may I at last be at peace.
I am dependent; I am weak. I find no comfort through seeking treatment for that which cannot be treated. There is no relief through the indulgence of my arsenal of medication. At best, I am numb; I am the scar tissue in which nerve cells cannot reside. At my worst, I am destructive; I skim the surface of an exposed powder keg with a lit match just to see whether or not it will blow. I suppose you could say I have a fixation towards Russian Roulette.
And so I have succumbed to my flaws and given in to my demons; I am consumed with such potent apathy as I wait for my insecurities to devour me. There is barbed wire embedded beneath my skin and the more I try to remove it, the more damage it does. It is far less painful to give in rather than to fight an undeniable enemy. And for what would I go through such trouble? To continue an internal battle that will forever burden me? No. Call it cowardly, but I refuse to fight the tide; I would much rather float. And if I happen to sink to the very bottom of the sea, may I at last be at peace.
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