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 today. I find peace when I conceive of myself in some way easy to communicate. So often, I'm at a loss for words, I can't begin to say what may be plaguing me. My pacing feet remain within, in my own mind, I walk through time in fragments of intrusive thoughts and misguided actions. To think I thought I'd made so much progress, it's tragic. I'm still a child, swayed extremely in one way or another on the basis of feeling. I'm afraid and my mind plays a scenario in which I die at the hands of a mysterious being. Or the love I have leaves me because I can't speak or take steps to be the man that I need to be. All my work was done with the judge's eyes on me, so I couldn't breathe until I appeased him. I never broke free from those shackles, unfairly placed, I fear my hand atrophied and my mind's a daze. The combination of which setting my life ablaze. Making me feel this weight which creates a sense of urgency that I'll never placate. It makes a step feel heavier than it ought to be. It makes complacency feel like a heinous offense.