i am from a nightmare.

i will never again declare

i feel intoxicated with ecstasy.

i spawn from pathetic acceptance of my fate.

i will never again think

i encompass a silver lining of faith.

i crash speculations against my brittle skull like waves against crumbling cliffs, reassuring me that

these humble days have been enhanced.

NO. THAT. IS. A. LIE.

i am incapable of utilizing any other mindsets.

and don’t you dare propose that

i claim no shame.

i am from a time where i must handle problems with bottles of prozac.

to fabricate my past, my present, and my future.

i now realize that there is not a need for me

my life can only be characterized as a waste.

if i were to finally flutter my frosted white flag, i would prove that

I. AM. WEAK.

i am from gazing into the mirror and reflecting nothing but naivety as my inner monologue spits lies like fire, foolishly suggesting that

LIFE. IS. ON. MY. SIDE.

but each millisecond my heart pounds at my ribcage. an 84-times-a-minute reminder. that

i cannot escape.

i am from cursing myself for ever believing that

i am from somewhere good. somewhere pure and beautiful. somewhere exquisite and extraordinary.

i am from a vicinity inside myself that i can call home and not be afraid of.

NO. THAT. IS. A. LIE.

i am from dust to dust.

i am from ashes to ashes.

i am from solitary confinement.

i am from misery.

i am from a nightmare.

now read me from the bottom to the top

- // the metamorphosis of perspective // m.e.m