heinous
It was foolish of me to think I'd be able to hide my deficiencies. I wake up with lungs that used to breathe and a mind that used to think, I think. I fear over fear and every other little thing. I feel disconnected from my peers and the younger versions of me. I can't even speak to the pain that I harbor and the faces that represent the anxiety. The key to freedom, I thought was compassion, but passion and kindness are both lost to me. I can't even find the will to sing. I mean, sometimes I sing, but I find myself hating the notes pronouncing. The gentle vowels instead become woes, and the slave of my will produces no sound. I'm bound to forever have regret, guilt, and shame compiled by name. I'm sorry, I went on my mental health journey, and I'm far from forgiving my heart that keeps burning. In the future, I see the same, not even rain to wash away my aches and pains. I've fallen victim to the games the ego plays, telling me it's either nothing or tod...