Who i am is shaped by who i want to be who i want to be is shaped by who i used to be. Ive lost grip of all reality whats real to me isn't what i want to be. I don't know how to be what i want to be
the people around me break and bend me leading me to believe that what i live is a broken life a life of destruction. a life where people take advantage of my weakness i allow people around me to shape my beliefs because i don't know when and where to leave
the way my life is now isn't the way i plan my life to be i don't know how to deal with the things around me instead ill just drown whats left of me in the alcohol that controls, forms, and shapes whats left in my life
The nights i don't remember are the only nights worth remembering anymore, this drug that controls my mind, my thoughts, and the people around me is slowly killing me
What i believe is destruction, you see as hope, what you see as hope is slowly destroying whats left of me.
The unobtainable, thats what they call me, they've been led to believe that no one can have me. That no one can be near me, not because i choose them not to be just because I'm that one thing that everyone wants but no one can have.
When actually its the opposite, i am the obtainable, i search for the attention and push it away once i receive it, and then try and find someone new to run after me.
The unobtainable more like the non-sustainable, the only reason they call me the unobtainable is because i cant sustain to be with anyone or anything thats right for me for more then a few days, therefore they've never seen me being contained by someone or something therefore the unobtainable.
what you see is never what you get. The layers that describe whats left inside are peeled away by the demons of my past. therefore showing a different layer of myself to you all, a different personality, a different person in itself.
The anger that surrounds me is mixed with the tears of anxiety, theres nothing left no tears left to cry with reason, the only reasons left are the ones that destroy me.
