A vicious cycle.. I don't want to lose this touch,this outlook,this perception.I don't want to grow old and bitter,or just a few years older and bitter.
The world will be the death of me. he will be the death of me.The silence will be the death of me. All that ravishes and plunders with absent remorse,...will the death of me.
This media,this society..could take the shiniest to rust,
Will grab you by your ankles and swallow you whole,
if you realize it or not.. I'm starting to think it happens to everyone.
Sure,I'm fucked up.. but not entirely. Since I'm completely split in half and never one initial way completely. Theres still such.. purity. Such intact innocence within me..Such hatred for corruption..Such fear.. is fear a naivety?or is it just a vulnerable emotion?
I'm scared of getting a job,of driving..
of growing out of old clothes,
of visually maturing.
I have my faults,and My flaws. I'm not holy Mary.
My throat rejects water,and It tastes like blood.
I want to break mirrors
I snap at people easily
Most of the time,I hate humanity.
I can be reckless and careless.
I dont want this.
I dont really... conciously crave a vile substance to help take away the pain..
I'm just lost..
and maybe..just maybe...aimless feelings.. being lost..confusion..pain.and hopelessness,is a form of innocence?
Maybe corruption in itself,and tattered outlooks, poisoned intentions..and scraped knees,and knotted hair and cigarette lips are all forms of innocence?
maybe... the after ward rape affect..
rape of the body and mind,yet not sexually.
maybe THAT is.... innocence?
The death of my innocence.
There may be rebirth..
but never like the scent of a confused virgin.