Poems · poetry · writing


So insecure to my own realities that I’ve been shadowing a monster. A shadow that attacks me while my back is turned to my reflection. I am no longer alive. I am just a walking soul searching for my realistic desires. The desire to be shadowed by who I truly am. A caterpillar is what I am, making holes in everything that comes my way, hoping to turn into a monarchy. No anarchy around to end this deceitful monster. When I finally get the dignity to look down at this creature, I realize it was my friend, depression.


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