Wasted freedom

adjourned by the

linguistically-challenged

society.

A wreckage in my brain

driving me to the point

of insanity,

manicuring each 

segment to be 

mildly better than the rest.

Perfection is such a lie, 

she's too fat,

she's too skinny, 

will we ever be enough 

to ever find our soul..

to find our humanity?

Oh,

but the stars say different, 

they make us feel like

we belong with them..

searching for answers

within reach of the galaxy.

Facing each milestone

with a headache,

screaming loud so the 

trumpets in my brain 

will stop blasting

such tone-deaf noise.

And the people make-believing

that nature is beautiful..

what is so attractive about cancer?

What is so gorgeous about 

a little girl dying?

Negativity rots my ego,

a self-hating manuscript

bares itself in front of my vision.

I say nothing because

anxiety is the only thing

that holds my every thought.

I'm angry at my rage.

I'm scared of my fear.

And I'm depressed at my sadness.

Society made me.

I have nothing left to give.