the hate that I had within me
It was always there. It still is. No matter how fast the bullet train of life brings me to beat the death of this thoughts. Its irony how refreshing the smell it gets from that metal friction, and how easy it takes me to the dark side that echoes. With pity, the memories of hope scraped away in seconds, leaving the longing aftermath that I wanted the most. I had it. Not just as long.
My lens of life has always been maneuvered based on
my past. Because there’s something that has been left there which I knew I shouldn’t.
There's a closure that I still hope for but out of reach. There’re tears in my
deep end guts that will respond to bullshits, only when I am alone. There’s a
smile specifically made just in case I’ve been gaslit for telling people what I
felt. There’s an accepting root that I know someday people will get tired of
me. There’s hatred that I still carry which people could not top that.
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