I ache with this.

Words scream out of my mouth with no meaning.

No sounds compare to the things I seem to say.

I am sorry, It is never as mean as It seems to be.

Although my disparity wilts this rose.

Unfortunately I can not soak up all the positivity that sways my way

This is not me.

 

  Anger does not fill these young veins.

Hatred should not live in my bewildered heart.

Never should I have endured this pitiful feeling.

This feeling that holds me back so much.

With wild acts of my virtue,

 

 I open my arms because no one knows the truth . . .